


Nothing Burns Like the Cold

by AliKat7



Series: The Lion and the Wolves [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: ADWD spoilers, AFFC spoilers, ASOS Spoilers, F/M, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-10-16
Packaged: 2017-11-28 17:16:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 116,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliKat7/pseuds/AliKat7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~*Sequel to A Lion in Winter*~ The war continues to weigh heavily on Robb and Deirdre as Jon faces his own hardships.  Winter is coming and nothing burns like the cold.<br/>Book Verse AU - Robb/OFC, Jon/OFC  *Book Spoilers for A Sword of Storms/TV Spoilers for Season 3*<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Lion in the Winter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/443474) by [AliKat7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliKat7/pseuds/AliKat7). 



 

 

 

_A/N Thank you to CalliopeGalaxy for the beta!_

_This has book spoilers for A Storm of Swords - including a MAJOR one in later chapters that I will alert to before its posted. Some of these scenes are actually in A Clash of Kings (including this part) and weren't included in Season 2 so I'm not sure if they plan to include them at all - which wouldn't be a spoiler I suppose. Anyway, thank you for continuing to read!_

* * *

 

**Chapter 1**

 

Deirdre woke suddenly after the baby gave a few solid kicks to her ribs. She sighed, brushing her hand over her belly and wished she had nearly as much energy as her baby did. Or as much control over her body. When the baby decided to be active, Deirdre was forced awake but the baby also chose when to rest. Deirdre was forced to live on his or her schedule.

 

She wondered, yet again, about Robb’s insistence that she carried two babies, two sons. The thought was strangely comforting; despite the fact it terrified her. To have two sons meant they’d never be alone, as she had grown up. Perhaps they’d have the close bond that Robb and Jon had. But she also worried that she’d lose one of them or even die in childbirth. The thought of not watching her children grow up terrified her.

 

Glancing over, she watched Robb sleeping for a few moments. As if he sensed it, he wrapped his arm around her, snuggling into her. She was glad they had made up before he left for the next battle. Kissing him gently, Deirdre wrapped her arm around his waist and rested her head on his chest.

 

“You’re awake early,” he mumbled, kissing her. She loved his voice when it was still thick with sleep.

 

“The baby woke me. He controls my sleeping.”

 

His fingers trailed down through her hair and he rested his hand on her back. “I’m sorry. I suppose lack of sleep is something you must be prepared for since when they’re born, they will wake you often to nurse.”

 

“Hmm,” she agreed, not bothering to correct him about using ‘they’ versus ‘he or she’. Robb was so convinced she was having twins, she suspected that was what he wanted to believe.

 

“It feels good to hold you again and wake up to you,” he whispered, pulling her closer. “It’s easier to forget what I’ve lost for a few moments when you’re in my arms. Waking up alone is a cold feeling.”

 

“I know.” After a moment, she lifted her head to look at him. “I’m worry about the next battle and I’m glad we’ve resolved things mostly, but I must ask. Do you have any lingering feelings for Lady Talisa?”

 

“No. Honestly, I don’t at all.” Robb sighed and was quiet for a moment. “I’m not sure I ever had feelings for her. She was _safe_ , or so I thought, but I don’t miss or think about her, other than realizing what my relationship with her almost cost me. Once I realized what I had done to you, my only thoughts were that I must not lose you. And when I feared I might, I realized I’d give up anything for you: the crown, the war on the Lannisters, anything. I just couldn’t lose your love.”

 

“I don’t think that love, _true_ love, is not something you lose,” she answered quietly. “But it is something you can destroy.”

 

“I’ll never forgive myself for almost destroying it,” he admitted, shame crossing his handsome features.

 

“You said you doubted me partially because you always felt like you didn’t deserve me.” She sat up and looked down at him. “If you don’t forgive yourself, you’ll continue to feel you don’t deserve me and we’ll come to this place again. Robb, no matter who I loved first or who you think deserves me more: I love _you_ and I chose to be with you because _I_ think you deserve me. I’m tired of the doubts and fears between us. You almost laid with another woman due to fear I still loved your brother, who I haven’t seen in almost a year, or that I’d chose my family over you, when my family threw me away a long time ago.”

 

“I know. In my heart I knew it all along but my thoughts became so confused because I trusted Theon and he betrayed me.”

 

“Theon was taken from his home as a child and kept from his family. He never stopped reminding people he was a Greyjoy or that the sea was in his blood. He always intended to go home some day. We don’t know what happened once he did that made him betray you. Likely we’ll never know. But I wanted _away_ from my family long before I came to Winterfell. Do you remember what I said when Ser Amory and Willem came from Casterly Rock? I wanted to sign away everything just to be free of them all,” she reminded him.

 

Robb studied her face for a moment before saying quietly, “I never thought Theon considered me as his enemy. And when Jon found out we were to marry, he said he had lost you to his ‘better’. Theon was like a brother and Jon _was_ my brother, but yet they thought of me differently than I thought of them.”

 

“Jon loves you,” Deirdre insisted. “He and I spoke many times about his feelings about being a bastard and he said the only thing that made it bearable was the love he felt for his brothers and sisters. He knew that none of you thought of him as your mother did. He only felt a distance from Sansa, but he still loved her. I think Jon just meant that the king thought of you as his better. Robb…Jon is not Theon. Theon’s main loyalty was always himself.”

 

“And my mother? How could she go behind my back like that?” Times like this, Robb stopped being the King in the North and was, once again, so young and vulnerable, his pain clearly visible on his face. Deirdre knew that no one saw this side of him now but her. She couldn’t help but remember Bran calling it ‘putting his Lord face on’ when Robb looked so serious and mature.

 

Deirdre leaned forward and kissed him tenderly, stroking his cheek, before saying, “She was thinking of your sisters. She knew you’d be angry, but I don’t think she thought about how dangerous it made your situation.  She’s lost your father, her home, her daughters, and her other sons are hostages. She was desperate and thought you’d understand.”

 

“I _do_ understand and I would gladly trade him for the girls if I thought that would end the war. Even though I still want revenge, if I thought we could go home to Winterfell and rule the North without Joffrey interfering with us or the Riverlands, I’d gladly trade Jaime and every other Lannister prisoner I have. But Joffrey and Cersei won’t allow us peace; neither will Tywin, and now we have to worry about the ironborn.” He sat up running his fingers through his hair, frustrated. “I want to go north and drive them out, I want to go home, but I can’t without my sisters and a guarantee that we’ll be allowed our freedom again in the north.” 

 

“I know,” she whispered and wrapped her arms around his waist, resting her head on his shoulder. “There haven’t been good options for you, my love. This is why you and I must stay strong together.” She lifted her head again and looked at him for a long moment. “I will always be here for you unless you push me away again.”

 

He kissed her, desperately clinging to her. When he released her lips, he wrapped his hand around the back of her neck and said, “I need you by my side or I cannot bear this. As you said, the north is crushing me; this crown is…I can’t do this alone.”

 

“You don’t have to,” she reassured him. “I’m never going to betray you so stop waiting for me to. I know it’s hard for you to trust now but I have the most to lose if you fail so I’m trusting in you too.” Placing his hand on her stomach, she smiled gently. “Besides, our child needs both of us.”

 

“I want to make love to you,” he replied, kissing her again. “ _Please._ ”

 

She murmured her consent against his lips. His tongue slid into her mouth, teasing hers to a sensual dance, as his hands traced the lines of her face. When she was breathless, he moved his lips down her jaw then pressed hot open-mouthed kisses against her neck. Deirdre always was surprised by how quickly his kisses could increase her desire. His mouth created so much pleasure for her.

 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, pressing his body against hers.

 

Lowering his mouth to capture her nipple, he moaned as he sucked it, flicking his tongue over it. Deirdre gasped and buried her fingers into his curls. Her breasts were even more sensitive this late in her pregnancy. They had swelled enough that Robb’s hand could barely cover one of them now. His kisses moved down her body slowly as his hand lowered between her legs, easing them apart. Both of them moaned as his fingers slid inside her. After a few moments, a second finger joined the first as his thumb rubbed her sensitive nub in circles. Deirdre’s nails dug into his shoulders when he moved his body in between her thighs.

 

Deirdre moaned his name, feeling his tongue dragging through her wet folds. His fingers continued to thrust into her slowly, his tongue making wipe swipes across the sensitive flesh. She arched up to his mouth, throbbing with need. Robb kept her on the edge of climax by alternating with insistent sucking and teasing licks. Removing his fingers, he covered her entrance and thrust his tongue inside her as he resumed stroking her with his thumb. Gasping for breath, Deirdre clutched the bedding beneath her.

 

As soon as she was on the verge of cresting, Robb sped up his fingers, plunging inside her and curling to touch sensitive places, his moans vibrating against her. She cried out, coming undone beneath his lips. He licked her until she stopped trembling then he lifted his head and gave her a feral look.

 

He rose to his knees and, taking her hands, pulled her to sit up. He kissed her hungrily, his hands drifting to her hips so he could draw her closer to him. Deirdre lowered her hand to grasp his hard shaft, stroking him. After a few moments, he pulled away from her to turn her around, her back to his chest. He pressed himself against her with a moan and Deirdre leaned forward to place her hands on the cot. Robb entered her slowly, gripping her hips so he could pull her back to him.

 

Their tent filled with sensual sounds from both of them. Robb reached up to grasp her hair, wrapping it around his hand and tugging it lightly. After a few moments, he brought her to sit up on her knees again, his arm wrapped around her as his mouth lowered to her shoulder. She gasped when she felt his teeth nipping along her neck. His tongue swiped at each spot after.

 

“You always feel so good, so _right_ ,” he murmured into her shoulder.

 

“Because we were made for each other,” she answered, leaning her head back and turning her face up and he kissed her.

 

His hands wandered her body, caressing her breasts, as his strokes increased in speed and intensity. He groaned in frustration and pulled away from her mouth. “I’m trying to be gentle, I don’t want to hurt you, but I want…deeper inside you and…”

 

“Lay on your back,” she replied.

 

Robb withdrew and did as she asked, raising his hands to help her straddle him. Deirdre smiled down at him and said, “This is going to get even more difficult in a few months.”

 

“I don’t care how difficult it is, as long as we don’t stop doing it,” he laughed.

 

Deirdre rode him slowly at first and kissed him deeply, luxuriating in the heat of his mouth and the erotic movements of his tongue against hers. Robb increased their tempo, his hands gripping her hips and guiding her movements. Suddenly, he groaned and said, “I can’t last much longer.”

 

Tightening around him, she leaned down to bite his neck and said, “Don’t hold back then.”

 

He bucked up hard, as she slid down his shaft. His fingers dug into her as his movements and his breathing became more erratic against the sweat-slicked skin of her neck. He cried out her name and pulled her tight against him, spilling his seed deep inside her. As soon as he caught his breath, he asked if he’d hurt her. She shook her head no and kissed him.

 

“I’m not as fragile as you think,” she said, as she lay down on his chest as much as she could.

 

Robb chuckled and rolled them onto their sides. “You’re not fragile but I’m afraid I might do something to cause those babies to come sooner than expected. Did the maester say it was all right for us to keep making love?”

 

“Yes but closer to my time, it could trigger birth. Perhaps we shouldn’t risk it the last few weeks,” she answered. “I’m frightened about having him, especially if there are two as you suspect. And I’ve never been around babies. I was younger than most people around me and when my older cousins were having their babies, I wasn’t with them.”

 

“You were wonderful with Bran and Rickon,” he said, smoothing her hair away from her face and kissing her gently.

 

“They were children, not babies, and they weren’t mine. Your parents had already taught them so much. What if I don’t know what to do? I don’t want to be a terrible mother. That’s why I’m so afraid. At least while they’re still inside me, they’re protected from everything,” she said, biting her lip. She hadn’t talked to Robb much about her fears of motherhood. Her own mother had never been one to nurture her so she had no role model.

 

Robb smiled and said, “You’re so nurturing and loving to everyone around you, I cannot imagine you not being a good mother. I grew up with four younger siblings. I remember enough about Arya, Rickon, and Bran as babies. We’ll be fine.”

 

“ _You’ll_ be fine. I’ll be a mess,” she muttered. “No one expects you to take care of them. It’s expected of me and I won’t know what to do. And I’m terrified of giving birth by myself.”

 

“You’ll be a natural and you’ll have my mother to help you,” he said. “I promise I’ll be with you when you give birth to our children, _all_ of our children.”

 

“I don’t think men aren’t supposed to be in the birthing rooms.”

 

“I’m the king. If I want to be in there, no one can stop me.” He chuckled. “I’d like to see them try to keep me from you. I want to hold your hand and see my children take their first breaths.”

 

“Promise me?” She knew it wasn’t very brave of her to want Robb to be with her but she didn’t care. He gave her strength and made her feel reassured that she could do it.

 

“I promise.”

 

~*~

 

“The remainder of the camp has been packed and is ready to move,” Ned said as he came up beside Deirdre. “The prisoners are heavily guarded and in the center of the column. Lady Stark is protected. Lady Mormont and her people are working with some of the Freys to drive the livestock they gathered from the Westerlands to Riverrun. Lord Umber said his remaining men have stayed behind at the gold mines they captured, but they sent a hefty sum of gold along with our men which is heavily guarded. The Karhold men have returned from the coasts with minimal losses. Lord Glover sent messages that he would meet us in Riverrun.”

 

“Good,” Deirdre said, following Adair and Robert toward the horses. Robb had arranged for the camp to be moved from the Westerlands to Riverrun as soon as he left for the Crag, leaving over five thousand men behind to ensure the move and their safety. Deirdre just had to confirm that everything went smoothly.

 

“The men from Riverrun have arrived to lead the van with Lord Umber, but one of the men requested to see you before we departed. There’s a message from Lord Tully for you,” Patrek said as he walked up swiftly.

 

“Fine,” Deirdre said and followed him to where the messenger waited. He handed her the message with a bow. Deirdre smiled at him, as she broke the wax seal quickly. They were already delayed in leaving.

 

After reading the message, tears filled her eyes. “What is it?” Ned asked, taking the parchment she held out to him. He read it and quickly said, “It was a minor injury, Your Grace. Lord Tully stressed it was only minor.”

 

“I can’t go to Riverrun. I need to go to the Crag,” she said quickly as she began walking to her horse. “You ensure the camp…”

 

“Your Grace, it’s too dangerous!” Ned called as he ran after her, jumping in front of her.

 

“Ned, I am going. The Crag isn’t far from here and I’m not going to Riverrun if my husband is hurt at the Crag,” Deirdre declared stubbornly. When he opened his mouth, she quickly insisted, “Nothing you say will change my mind. I am the queen and you _will_ obey my command! Lord Umber will lead everyone back to Riverrun. You can assist him if needed. Robert, Patrek, and Adair will come with me. Or send more men if need be, I don’t care. But I am going and you will not hinder me.”

 

His jaw tightened and he glanced around for a moment before he looked back at her. “Let me go with you. I will speak with Lord Umber but we need to take more than just a few guards. You are the queen, as you said, and you must be protected. I think no less than one hundred men, plus your guards,” Ned insisted.

 

“Fifty. One hundred men would draw too much attention and slow us down,” she answered sharply. “Gather them quickly. Robert, let Lord Umber know but tell him I said not to bother trying to convince me not to go.”

 

Deirdre waited impatiently for the men to return. She didn’t like to demand things or use her title and power but if that’s what it took to get her to Robb, she’d do it. Rational thought was a struggle but she knew if she acted too emotional that the men would see it as weakness and think she could be persuaded to go with them to Riverrun. She saw Lord Umber coming toward her quickly and sighed, preparing herself for the impending argument. Unlike Ned, the Greatjon was likely to ignore the fact she was the queen and throw her over his shoulder, forcing her to Riverrun.

 

“You cannot go to the Crag, Your Grace,” he blustered as he towered above her. “The king would skin me alive if I allowed you to go.”

 

“You’re not _allowing_ me to do anything. I’m going whether you or anyone else approves or not. Now, I want you to take the men and go to Riverrun as planned. Ned is insisting on taking fifty men though I think that’s too many. I’ll be careful. The Crag isn’t far from here,” she answered. “And I’ll explain to Robb that you protested violently. Make certain that Lady Stark is told, _after_ I’m gone, that Robb was injured but will be fine.”

 

“If he’ll be fine, then you have no need to go,” Lord Umber argued. “A pregnant queen has no business riding to the site of a battle so soon after it happened. You don’t know what the conditions are…”

 

“He’ll be fine because I’m going there to make sure he _is_ fine and remains that way.” She let Adair help her mount her horse. Riding while pregnant wasn’t comfortable and Lady Stark had advised against it, but if she rode in a wagon, she’d be more vulnerable if they were attacked. “I’ll handle the conditions when I see them. I’m certain that over fifty men can guard one person. The way everyone is acting, it seems like no one will suspect I would ever go there. If that’s the case, I’ll be safer there than here.”

 

Lord Umber argued with her for a few more moments before Ned returned with the men and her other guards. Deirdre rode off in the middle of the Greatjon’s last sentence. She understood why he was concerned and knew that he was right about the dangers but she was going to be with Robb now. Despite the message, she couldn’t trust that his injuries were that minor until she saw them with her own eyes. And when they returned to Riverrun, she’d be with his men, over ten thousand strong, him, and Grey Wind. She wasn’t worried about the return journey. Her only concern right now was Robb.

 

~*~

 

Dacey watched as Robb slipped in and out of consciousness, murmuring names and commands at times but mostly making no sense. The young Westerling girl kept an eye on the king when their maester was checking on other injured. Jeyne seemed kind enough and didn’t appear to have any ill-intentions to His Grace, as far as she could tell. Smalljon had let Grey Wind into the room a few times and the direwolf had inspected Jeyne the first few times but seemed at ease with her. But they each took turns watching over her as she cared for Robb. Dacey tended to spend more time in here than anyone else. She felt responsible for Robb, not just as her king, but as her friend and the husband of her closest friend and queen. Deirdre would never forgive Dacey if Robb came to any harm under Jeyne Westerling’s care.

 

“If he had left the arrow in to be removed by the maester, it would have healed quicker,” Jeyne was explaining as she cleansed the wound again. It still smelled of infection, but Jeyne assured Dacey that Robb’s fever had lowered somewhat. “When he torn it out himself, he ripped the muscles and sinew jaggedly so it is harder to heal. That’s why it festered.”

 

“His Grace is somewhat…stubborn and didn’t think it needed tending,” Dacey said with a slight smirk. “He’s a king and a soldier, not a healer.” Hearing a commotion outside, she walked to the window and looked out, not believing her eyes. “Seven hells!”

 

“What is it?” Jeyne asked, fearfully. Grey Wind had rose from the corner of the room and now paced in front of the door which, no doubt, worried the Westerling girl further.

 

“The queen,” Dacey sighed. “She’s here. I should have known she would come, but I thought someone would talk sense into her and remind her of the danger.” She turned back around and saw Jeyne watching her wide-eyed. “No harm will come to your family, as promised. Your surrender to the king still stands. She’s just here to look after the king’s well-being.”

 

Jeyne nodded and glanced nervously at Grey Wind before she finished packing Robb’s wound. Dacey remained where she was because she saw Smalljon and Ser Brynden meet Deirdre at the gate. Ned was, of course, by her side as were a few of her other guards, but as typical, Deirdre walked and just expected that they’d protect her. She didn’t even seem to notice the battle scene around her with her single purpose being seeing Robb as she strode into the keep and out of Dacey’s sight.

 

Soon enough, the queen, the maester, Ned, Smalljon, and a few others came into the room. The maester stopped short seeing Grey Wind and Jeyne Westerling rose quickly to curtsey. But Deirdre paid her no mind, seeing only Robb.

 

“Which one of you said it was a minor injury?” she demanded and rushed to his side. Feeling his skin, she furrowed her brow and exclaimed, “He’s burning up with fever!”

 

“Your Grace, his fever has gone down since last night. His body is fighting the infection, but each time I change the bandages, it looks better,” Jeyne said quietly.

 

Deirdre finally noticed the girl and watched her for a moment before asking, “Who are you?”

 

“Jeyne, Your Grace: Jeyne Westerling,” she answered softly.

 

“You’re not a healer,” Deirdre studied her suspiciously. “This is your family’s castle.”

 

“The maester was watching after all of the wounded so I stayed with the king,” Jeyne explained. “We’ve met before, Your Grace: once, in Lannisport, when we were just girls. I believe our fathers knew each other.”

 

Deirdre nodded and looked back at Robb, brushing his hair away from his face. “Tell me true. Is his wound serious Jeyne?”

 

“As I was explaining to Lady Dacey, when the king tore the arrow from his shoulder, he ripped through the muscle and tissue, leaving the wound with jagged edges. Since it wasn’t treated or cleaned before he almost collapsed, it festered. But the wound has improved quite a bit in the last two days. And he sweated most of his fever out this morning. Once the infection is gone, the maester can stitch the wound and he’ll heal properly,” Jeyne came closer to the bed, watching her as she spoke. Deirdre bit her lower lip as she ran her hand over Robb’s cheek.

 

“He does look much better, Your Grace,” Dacey assured her. Deirdre knew that Dacey wouldn’t lie to her so she finally looked calmer.

 

“Thank you for watching over him,” she said to Jeyne. Glancing back at the maester, who still stood near the door and away from Grey Wind, she added, “I expect you to check on His Grace hourly until his fever breaks.”

 

“Yes, Your Grace,” the maester nodded quickly.

 

“Lady Sybell would like to speak to the queen,” a man from the Crag announced from the door.

 

“Not now,” Deirdre said dismissively.

 

The man looked worried and blurted out, “But…the lady of the castle…”

 

Deirdre whirled around angrily. “I said _not now_. I will see her when I chose to and not a moment before. Everyone leave us for now, except the maester, Dacey, and Lady Jeyne. Grey Wind, come here.” The direwolf padded slowly to her as she rose, leading him away from the bed. “Maester, come examine my husband’s wound. While I’m certain Jeyne has done the best of her abilities, I’d feel more comfortable if you could assure his well-being, considering that I’m holding you _personally_ responsible for his recovery.”

 

The maester almost tripped over himself to examine Robb as everyone else left the room. Ned hesitated at the door but glancing at Grey Wind, then at Dacey, he turned and followed Smalljon out. Dacey watched the maester work quickly, his eyes darting back and forth between Robb’s wound, Deirdre, and Grey Wind. Dacey wasn’t surprised. By now, everyone in the Crag knew the wolf growled and bared his teeth at Ser Rolph and Lady Sybell felt no more comfortable around him. The only one who seemed to have grown accustomed to him was Jeyne.

 

Dacey was taken aback at how intimidating Deirdre could be if she needed to be. She’d never see this side of her, although she’d heard about a few instances where she acted like more like a queen, than the gentle natured woman she was. In battle, Robb couldn’t have anyone second guessing him so it made sense for him to constantly act like the king. But just as he rarely let anyone forget, Deirdre rarely reminded people she was the queen.

 

“How did this happen?” Deirdre asked her.

 

“He took the gate with a ram and the arrow struck him as the gate came down. His Grace didn’t notice the pain at first then when he saw the arrow, he just ripped it out and kept going. Hours later when he went to remove his armor, Smalljon noticed he paled and began walking toward him. Before he got there, Robb had passed out. No one even saw him get hit. He mentioned it to Ser Wendel at dinner when he flinched raising his arm but even then he said it was nothing,” Dacey said, shaking her head. “They got the maester in there straight away but Smalljon said if he’d been alone when he’d collapsed he probably would have died before the morning.”

 

“Your Grace, he’s healing as well as can be expected. As Lady Jeyne said, his fever is down quite a bit,” the maester assured her. “The bleeding has stopped but he did lose a lot of blood and he will need to regain his strength.”

 

“Thank you. You may leave,” Deirdre said, sitting down on the bed beside Robb. Dacey noticed how drawn Deirdre was.

 

“Wait, perhaps the maester should look after you, Your Grace. You are pale,” Dacey said and stepped closer to her friend.

 

“I’m tired and worried. But I’m fine. I’ll feel better if I just sit here with Robb for awhile,” she said quietly.

 

“Would you like supper or some wine, at least, Your Grace?” Jeyne offered.

 

“She would,” a hoarse voice startled them all and Deirdre looked quickly down at Robb, who was struggling to open his eyes fully. “Water or wine for me.”

 

Ignoring the present company, Deirdre leaned down and kissed Robb a few times, smiling as tears fell on her cheeks. “I thought I was going to lose you.”

 

Robb shook his head. Dacey rushed to pour him some water then pressed the cup to his lips as Deirdre held his head up. After he drank, he grasped Deirdre’s hand. “Why are you here? It’s not safe.”

 

“I needed to be with you,” Deirdre answered quietly. “I told you I didn’t want to be waiting for some raven to bring me words of your fate.”

 

“Grey Wind?” he asked. The direwolf came and licked his fingers. Robb buried his hand in his scruff and said, “I dreamed of him and Ghost.”

 

Dacey noticed that Jeyne watched the king and queen for a moment before acting like she felt awkward. “Your Grace, perhaps Jeyne can go get you something to eat. It would make me feel better to know you’ve at least eaten something. And she can arrange for your guards to be fed as well.”

 

“Yes, of course. And can you bring some broth or something for the king?” Deirdre asked, not turning away from Robb. Dacey decided it would be best if they were alone anyway.

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

_A/N Thank you to CalliopeGalaxy for the beta! Thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback! Thanks so much to[DKNC](../../../../users/DKNC/pseuds/DKNC) for helping get Catelyn's voice right in the letter!_

**Chapter 2**

  
Robb drifted in and out of sleep for the rest of the night but Deirdre stayed by him, her hand frequently resting on his chest below his wound to see if it was still hot. Jeyne would come in and check on him at times but she didn’t stay with him like she had the previous nights. Smalljon took over for Dacey and would talk to Jeyne when she would come in.

 

“Your Grace, if you don’t sleep while he’s sleeping then you’ll exhaust yourself, which wouldn’t be good for your baby,” Jeyne finally said after hearing Deirdre and Smalljon arguing about Deirdre staying awake all night with Robb.

 

“I’m not leaving him.”

 

“There is more room on that bed then there is on your cot. I’ll move him to the side of the bed and you can lie down beside him,” Smalljon offered but Deirdre smacked his hands away from Robb.

 

“Don’t you dare, Smalljon Umber!” she snapped. “If you move him, you might hurt him. He’s the king, not a child to be tossed about.” Smalljon seemed to be trying to refrain from laughter which only made her madder. “Your manners are worse than your father’s.”

 

After that, Smalljon did laugh. “I hardly think that’s possible, Your Grace. I’m not the one who asked His Grace if he was touched in the head and called him ‘boy’.”

 

“That was _before_ he became king, not that it matters much,” Deirdre mumbled then saw that Jeyne was watching them with amusement and surprise. “I’m certain you never expected such coarse and disrespectful behavior from a lord’s son. If you knew the lord, you’d understand.”

 

“It’s quite refreshing to see genuine affection between a king and his men,” Jeyne said with a shy smile. “King Robb must be a good king to inspire such loyalty.”

 

Deirdre looked down at her sleeping husband and tears filled her eyes as she nodded. She knew worry and lack of sleep was making her more emotional but she had tried to refrain from crying in front of Jeyne so far. She seemed like a sweet person but sweet or not, she was still the enemy in some respects.

 

She felt large hands grasp her shoulders gently. “Deirdre, allow me to _carefully_ move the king to one side so you can lie down. Otherwise, he’ll never forgive me,” Smalljon said in a soft voice. It always amazed her that both he and his father could be so huge and intimidating but then be so gentle at times, Smalljon especially. She’d caught him playing with Grey Wind, like a boy with a dog, a few times when he thought no one was watching, and he always showed the ultimate respect for the women in camp, except for Dacey. Those two had a brother-sister relationship and Dacey would have probably punched him in the face if he treated her like a woman. But Deirdre knew that Smalljon would kill for Dacey.

 

Not trusting herself to speak, she nodded and watched while the big Northman moved her husband. Jeyne brought her a blanket and excused herself while Smalljon took up a spot where his back was mostly to them. Deirdre lay down beside Robb and watched him sleep for a few moments, her hand resting on his heart as a reassurance that it still beat. Finally unable to resist she closed her eyes and slept.

 

~*~

 

Deirdre woke up a few hours later and found Robb watching her in confusion. “Am I dreaming again?”

 

Reaching out to touch his face, she sighed in relief that he was just a little too warm, not burning up. “No, it’s real. Are you in a lot of pain?”

 

“When did you come, and why? Deirdre, it’s too risky for you to have come here,” he said, trying to sit up. As soon as he did, a pained expression crossed his face and he paled, lying back down.

 

“We had this discussion already last night. Let me fetch the maester,” she said, quickly rising from the bed.

 

“Last night? I don’t remember…there was a woman here before, that I didn’t know. I just remember taking off my armor last night and… the rest is blurry.”

 

“That was three days ago, Robb,” she said with a gentle smile. “The woman is Jeyne Westerling, who watched over you when you were first injured until I arrived last evening. You spoke to me last night, but I suppose that was your fever talking. And I came because my _beloved husband_ was injured.” She kissed him lightly.

 

“I’ll have to speak to Ned and the Greatjon for allowing that,” he muttered under his breath.

 

Deirdre chuckled. “I didn’t give them a choice. I’m the queen and, since you didn’t give them _specific_ orders not to allow me to come here, they had no choice but to follow my command. But it wouldn’t have mattered. I would have come even if they attempted to stop me.” She laughed at his frown of disapproval.

 

After the maester examined him, Deirdre had food brought to him. Once again, she was told that Lady Sybell Westerling required an audience with her. Deirdre agreed to it, if only to remind the woman that she was not in command of the castle anymore. Her steward escorted her, Ned, and Robert to the woman’s solar where she awaited them with her brother, Ser Rolph Spicer. They bowed when she entered and offered her wine. Ned gave her a small shake of her head to decline so she did, wondering if he feared Lady Sybell would poison her and if so, if he had reasons to suspect that or was just being cautious.

 

“I was informed that you have been insistent to speak with me, Lady Sybell. But let me make it clear, I came to see to my husband’s care, not renegotiate any terms he made in regards to the Crag,” Deirdre said sharply. “What matter could not wait until His Grace had recovered his full strength and could not be brought up with one of his men that are in command?”

 

“Your Grace, it is has been many years since I’ve seen you, at your first wedding to Ser Thomas. I hope your mother is well,” Lady Sybell said with an air of arrogance and disdain to her tone. Obviously, she was still very loyal to Tywin.

 

Deirdre searched her memories for anything related to the Westerlings and other than remembering meeting Jeyne as a child, one of many girls she was to entertain while their fathers visited her father or, after her father’s death, Lord Tywin. She didn’t remember anything of any significance in regards to any of the Westerlings being at her wedding but that day was such a blur and she had tried to block most of it from her memory anyway.

 

“You’d have to ask someone else about my mother’s well-being. We haven’t spoken since I married His Grace in Winterfell,” Deirdre said dismissively.

 

Lady Sybell nodded and said, “I imagine it was quite a shock to her that you remarried, far away in the North, without her there. You two were so close.”

 

Deirdre forced a smile. She realized now that this woman had no real knowledge of her, her mother or anything in regards to her, if she were to make such a ludicrous statement. Lady Sybell was attempting to either insinuate that she knew her family or shame her for her loyalty to Robb. Either way, she wasn’t interested in continuing the discussion about her family.

 

“Is there a reason for this audience other than to discuss days long gone? I have little time for it and I need to attend to other matters,” Deirdre replied. Her tone of voice was growing more hostile but she was too tired to force too much courtesy. “As I said, this should have been brought up with His Grace’s commanders.”

 

“It’s the king’s men that are causing the source of trouble, Your Grace.” Rolph spoke for the first time. “They’ve taken over our stables, great hall, and many of the bedroom chambers. They’re dwindling our stores and have hindered us from repairing our gates.”

 

Deirdre was quiet a moment. “I’m not an expert in warfare, but isn’t this normal behavior when a castle is stormed?” She glanced at Robert and Ned for reassuring nods. “I haven’t heard of any of your men being killed since you surrendered; nor have women been raped or buildings being burnt. I assure you that you’re being treated more gently than if the Lannister forces had invaded.”

 

“ _You’re_ a Lannister,” Lady Sybell said, her glare catching Deirdre fully. “You should not speak ill of your kin.”

 

Deirdre rose to her feet. “I’m a _Stark_ now, wife of Robb Stark, King in the North. I’m the Queen of the North or have you forgotten? How _dare_ you speak to me in such a manner! How I speak of my kin is not your concern. Now if you have no _real_ grievances, I suggest you trouble yourself less with the manner I speak of my family and more with repairing your castle. I will tell the men not to hinder you with that. But that is all.  Consider yourselves lucky that castle rooms, stables and stores are all they are intruding on. And furthermore, from now on, address your troubles to Smalljon Umber.”

 

Lady Sybell looked at her for a moment before bowing her head. “Forgive me, Your Grace. I should never have _presumed_ to speak to you that way. If you could speak to His Grace’s men, we’d be most grateful.”

 

“Lady Westerling, I’m a very patient woman but under the current circumstances, I’m less so. Don’t push me further with complaints such as these. Considering the results of so many battles, your situation could be far worse. Don’t force me to make it even more unpleasant by confining you to your chambers or in the cells below the castle, until I depart.” Deirdre had never threatened anyone quite so easily but it was either that or slapping the woman and she thought perhaps this might be more dignified. Lady Sybell’s eyes widened before she begged her pardon again.

 

Deirdre left the room without another word. As they walked down the hall, she heard Robert chuckling and turned to look at him. “I do so hope you enjoyed that,” she retorted, raising an eyebrow at him.

 

“Perhaps you should set Grey Wind outside their door,” Ned suggested with a smirk.

 

Deirdre returned his smirk and continued walking to find Smalljon to relay the Westerling’s complaints to him. She knew Smalljon and Black Walder had taken command during the battle. But she avoided the Freys for obvious reasons, especially Black Walder.

 

~*~

 

The day after he woke up, Robb was driving Deirdre to madness with his constant complaining about being forced to rest. His fever had barely broken and he still got dizzy when he tried to stand, so she told him that she’d tie him to the bed if he attempted to get up again. Jeyne checked on him frequently and that afternoon, she told Deirdre she needed to speak with her privately.

 

Deirdre left Robb under Dacey’s close supervision since she knew Dacey was the only one who would argue if Robb attempted to command her to allow him to get out of bed. Outside the door, Jeyne said, “Lord Umber wished to speak to you most urgently but he didn’t want Robb to know he was here.”

 

Filled with a flutter of panic, Deirdre and Ned followed Jeyne to another room close by. Smalljon stood with his father, Daryn, Robert and a few others close to the Greatjon. She knew by the looks on their faces something horrible had happened and immediately her thought went to Lady Stark, since she had been in Lord Umber’s care when Deirdre came to the Crag.

 

“What is it?” she asked quickly.

 

The Greatjon shook his head and she noticed he was truly suffering from the news he bore. He held out a sealed message. “Lady Stark wrote the message as soon as they received the raven from Cerwyn.”

 

Taking the message, Deirdre’s hands were shaking. Lady Stark was alive but the message from Cerwyn could only mean that it was dark words about Winterfell. Smalljon turned away when she glanced in his direction and the fact that he wouldn’t face her scared her terribly. She took a deep breath and broke the seal to the message. After reading the first few lines, the world stopped and she felt herself falling into darkness.

 

Deirdre woke with Ned and Smalljon watching her closely. She’d been placed on the bed so the maester could check her for any injuries to her head when she fainted. She sobbed and Ned reached out to hold her hand.

 

“This can’t be true. They were just… _little boys_. How could Theon…he lived in their home and watched them grow up…” she said between choking sobs. “Oh Mother have mercy…I cannot tell Robb this.” She sat up.

 

“If you wish me to tell him…” the Greatjon offered but she saw in his eyes that he did not want the task either.

 

Shaking her head, she said, “No it should come from me, as Lady Stark wished. But I need to be calmer when I tell him.”

 

The maester gave her some wine and she drank it to sooth her nerves. She forced Bran and Rickon’s faces out of her mind as she asked for the letter again. She hadn’t read all of it and knew she must be strong enough to do so for Robb needed to know all that it said.

 

_“Deirdre,_

_I send this missive to you for these tidings I would not have my son learn from cold parchment. I scarce can force my quill to write the words for the shaking of my hand. Bran and Rickon are dead. Forgive my stating it so plainly, but there is no way to soften this blow._

_We had a raven from Cerwyn. My boys escaped Winterfell and Theon Greyjoy brought them back dead. He mounted the heads of my sons on spikes on the wall of my home. The Northmen prepare to march on Winterfell, but I find little comfort in the thought of mere mortar and stone without my husband and children there. You are Robb's wife. Let him hear this evil news from your lips and perhaps find comfort in your arms._

_I have no sons left to me but Robb. Please bring him safely to me. Lord Umber has other news for him, but it must wait, and he understands this._

 

_Catelyn”_

 

“Theon will pay for this,” the Greatjon said angrily.

 

“But it will not bring Bran and Rickon back to life,” Deirdre replied, attempting to stop the tears that flowed freely down her face. The men watched her silently until she became more composed. She had to force herself to not think about the boy’s faces when she’d last seen them. “What is this other news, Lord Umber?”

 

“It can wait, Your Grace. I promised Lady Stark I would wait to tell the king until…after he knew about his brothers.”

 

“I’m not the king. I must know if it’s important.”  She wiped her tears away and stood, forcing herself to appear calm.

 

“Well…” The Greatjon seemed to debate if he should tell her but apparently her look told him that he should. “Lord Brax spoke to me earlier. He overheard on the way to Riverrun which of the Freys was plotting your death.”

 

Smalljon put his hand on his father’s shoulder. “Father, Ned and I will handle this until the king is…”

 

Deirdre hesitated. She wanted to know but knowing that might make her angry and right now she needed to be numb. “It can wait. I’ll be with Robb. Grey Wind is in there plus there are guards outside the door. Doubtful anyone can harm me until Robb can be told.” She took a deep breath and began walking toward the door. There was not going to be an easier time.

 

Smalljon and Ned followed her into Robb’s room and Dacey studied them all warily, no doubt sensing something was wrong. Robb was stroking Grey Wind’s neck with his good hand and glanced up with half a smile. Deirdre tried, but failed, to look emotionless as she came and sat beside him on the bed. Dacey walked to the door where the two men stood and after a moment the three of them left.

 

“What is it?” Robb asked, reaching for the message she still had clutched in her hand, forgotten. She didn’t let him take it, instead taking his hand and bringing it to her lips.

 

“I must tell you something,” she said quietly then swallowed hard before taking a deep breath.

 

“What is it?” he repeated anxiously.

 

“Robb,” she began and bit back a sob. “It’s Bran and Rickon. They’re both…they’re…they’re dead.”

 

First, he looked shocked then he shook his head in disbelief. His fingers clutched hers so hard, she feared he might break them. “No. They can’t be. There must be some mistake…” She shook her head silently. “But…how? Theon wouldn’t…he knows they’re more valuable alive. He couldn’t have…was it one of his men? Or…there _must_ be a mistake.”

 

“Robb, I wish with all my heart it was a mistake. It was Theon…he murdered them.”

 

Robb’s cry of anguish ripped through her heart and she reached out to take him into her embrace. Suddenly Grey Wind lunged onto the bed, howling mournfully at her. Deirdre jumped up and stared at Robb for a few moments before she realized what was happening. Robb was completely silent and still but Grey Wind’s howls were terrifying and forlorn. She couldn’t step closer without the direwolf crouching down over Robb, like he was shielding him from her or from the world around them. Deirdre heard voices calling her name outside causing Grey Wind to growl viciously at the door.

 

Ned burst into the room with Dacey on his heels but both stopped short when Grey Wind crouched down like he was going to attack.

 

“Leave!” Deirdre yelled quickly.

 

“It’s not safe for you,” Ned stepped toward her, but Grey Wind tensed again and he froze. “You _know_ what is happening.”

 

“He won’t hurt me Ned. Just go,” Deirdre replied, trying to calm her voice. She sensed the wolf would respond to any fear in her voice. Turning, she looked Ned in the eyes and nodded reassuringly. He hesitated but finally left, pulling Dacey with him.

 

As soon as they left, the direwolf howled once more then turned, his eyes watching her. He whimpered like he was injured and Deirdre said to Robb, as calmly as she could, “Robb, my love, I need you to...come back. _Please_.”

 

Grey Wind whimpered awhile longer, holding his head down. After a few moments of silence, she heard Robb take a ragged breath and he looked at her with fearful eyes, full of tears.

 

“I could have hurt you,” he said, attempting to stand.

 

“No, you wouldn’t have. Don’t get up. Just please get Grey Wind off the bed,” she said, her voice shaky. Her hands were trembling. It was the first time the wolf had _ever_ scared her and knowing Robb had warged into him completely, terrified her. He got the direwolf off the bed and she said, “I need to tell Ned and Dacey that we’re all right.”

 

She opened the door and found Ned, Dacey, Smalljon, and Lord Umber pacing outside the door. “It’s fine. No one is hurt,” was the only explanation she gave. Ned’s look told her that she’d have to have a much longer talk with him later. When she came back into the room, Robb watched her silently, tears streaming down his face.

 

“I could have killed you,” he whispered. “I feared this day would come.”

 

“Robb, you wouldn’t have hurt me,” she assured him with a gentle smile as she sat beside him again. She ran her hand through his thick curls and kissed his forehead. “You said it only happened when you were tired, weak, or vulnerable. I cannot imagine a time where you could be anymore weak or vulnerable, yet Grey Wind did not attempt to bite me. Please, do not worry about that now.”

 

He leaned into her neck and she felt his tears running down her skin and seeping into the fabric of her dress. “It’s my fault. I trusted Theon, then I allowed Bolton to convince me not to march North. I might as well have killed them myself,” he whispered. The anguish and guilt in his voice was like a blade in her heart. He was clutching her so tightly that she could not pull back to see his face.

 

“No one, even those who doubted the sense in trusting Theon, _ever_ thought he was capable of this. I disliked him more than most people and never thought he could kill a child. Plus Bran and Rickon as hostages was his only way to ensure that no one stormed Winterfell,” she replied. She kissed his shoulder and continued to stroke his hair. She felt so helpless to comfort him, but there was nothing to be said or done to heal this pain.

 

When Eddard Stark died, it had been a horrible tragedy for everyone who loved him but in his situation, imprisoned by Cersei and Joffrey, there was always the threat of that happening. Bran and Rickon’s home had been invaded but surely Theon knew he’d have no chance of surviving if he killed them. Besides, as much as she hated Theon, she didn’t think he had it in him to murder two children he’d watched growing up. Especially since he had once saved Bran’s life. Tears filled her eyes but she forced them away. She needed to be strong for Robb now. Her tears must wait. He was trembling and she wasn’t sure if it was weakness and physical pain due to his injury or his grief and devastation that was making him do so. She finally was able to pull away enough to look at his face.

 

“Robb, please lie down,” she said, easing him back onto the bed with gentle and firm hands. “I know you’re mourning, but re-injuring yourself won’t help.”

 

“Don’t leave me,” he whispered, clutching her arm.

 

“I’m right here,” she said, lying beside him and wrapping her arm around his waist. “I won’t let you go until you’re ready.” She stroked the soft skin over his ribcage and watched his face. “I know you’ll never believe this but what happened wasn’t your fault.”

 

“You’re right; I won’t believe that. I was a fool to trust Theon and then trust Bolton even though I doubted his suggestion. Then I turned right around and put you through hell because I couldn’t trust you. Why wasn’t I more wary of them than you?”

 

Propping herself up on her elbow she said, “Because you’ve known Theon for so many years you trusted him to be the person you thought he was. Bolton’s advice was within moments of finding out you’d been betrayed. It sounded like the right choice. Also, because you had two sisters captive in the south and two brothers in the north: it was less likely that Theon would hurt the boys and Sansa and Arya are with people that murdered your father.”

 

Watery blue eyes turned to hers and he said, “Winterfell has been held by the Starks for eight thousand years. It has _never_ been conquered. And I lost it in less than a year. I trusted my brothers’ lives to the man who I _knew_ had just betrayed me. They made me a king and I’m little more than a fool. I put my desire to avenge my father before my brother’s lives. I couldn’t bring him back from the dead, yet I didn’t keep my brothers safe and _they_ were alive.”

 

“Robb, it isn’t your fault. Blaming and punishing yourself won’t bring them back,” she whispered but did not know the words to sooth him.

 

“My mother will never forgive me. She blamed me for trusting Theon…”

 

“I didn’t sense any blame from her message. She wanted me to tell you rather than you finding out from a message so I could comfort you, plus she asked me to bring you back to her safely. _No one_ blames you. The blame is solely on Theon, no one else. The whole north hated him for taking Winterfell. They’ll put him through the seven levels of hell before he dies, I assure you, Robb.”

 

Robb gripped her arm and pulled her to him again. Deirdre felt her heart breaking into thousands of pieces and she couldn’t force the tears from her eyes this time as the thoughts of Rickon’s laughter or non-stop energy and Bran’s gentle smiles and soulful eyes. They held each other tightly.

 

Deirdre told his guards and men that they wished to be alone for the rest of the day. Smalljon took Grey Wind out to let him hunt then kept him guarding outside their door.

 

Robb made love to her twice that night, each time seeming to need her more. Afterwards she held him until he fell into a fitful sleep. Only when he slept, did she allow her tears to finally fall. She rose and walked to the window, looking into the night, wondering how much more loss Robb could bear. The baby had been strangely calm that day but tonight he was active. She prayed for her child. Although a son could never replace his brothers, she knew Robb would feel so much joy when their child was born. He’d said he didn’t care if it was a son or daughter but she knew he needed an heir. Perhaps if this one was a boy, they could wait until they had a safe place for their family before they had anymore. She wanted a home for her son. And an end to this war at last.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

 

_A/N Thank you to CalliopeGalaxy for the beta! Thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback!_

_So sorry for the delay. Robb was in mourning and didn't want to talk anymore._

**Chapter 3**

 

Deirdre woke up the following morning to find Robb asleep with his head resting on her swollen belly. Smiling softly, she ran her fingers through his hair and he stirred a bit. She carefully extracted herself from him and got out of the bed to go to the privy. Having the luxuries of a castle again was strange, but felt marvelous. She washed her face and wished she had thought to bring another gown. But in her hurry to reach Robb, she hadn’t taken the time to bring clothing. Jeyne had given her a sleeping gown and had her gown washed the night before last, at least.

 

When she returned, Robb was sitting up in the bed, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He looked up at her and simply watched her in silence for a few moments.

 

“I want to name our son Brandon,” he said softly. “Bran the Builder was a great King in the North and built the Wall and Winterfell. My uncle’s name was Brandon as well. In fact, nearly every other generation of Starks has had a Brandon, and since my brother Bran is…” He swallowed hard and looked pained. “Since he’s gone, I want another Brandon Stark in the North. Hopefully, my mother will find comfort from the first son of her first child being named Bran.”

 

Deirdre nodded. “I think our son would be honored to be named Brandon. But do you not wish to name him Eddard as planned?”

 

“No.” Robb shook his head. “It should be Brandon. Perhaps Sansa will want to name her child Eddard in honor of Father, but I think Father would be more pleased if we named our child a noble Stark name shared with his brother and his son. He wasn’t one for expecting to be honored anyway.”

 

 “If that is what you wish, then I want that as well,” she said, walking to him. She kissed him gently, and then began trying to make herself presentable. “I’m going to find the maester to check your wound and will send food to break your fast. You haven’t eaten much and since you lost so much blood, you need to regain your strength.” Deirdre’s attempt to braid her hair was somewhat messy, but without a brush her hair was tangled. She made do though; she didn’t care enough to worry if her hair or gown weren’t perfect.

 

“Please send Smalljon and the Greatjon here if they are no longer abed.  I have been immobile for far too long.”

 

Deirdre nodded with a sigh. She wondered if he’d handle his grief as he had with his father, putting all his energy into his duties, forgetting about his own well-being. This time she wouldn’t allow him to do that. 

 

Stepping into the hall, she almost ran into Adair. She saw Grey Wind and the direwolf rose, walking towards the door. The ripple of fear she felt passed quickly when the he nosed at her hand. She closed her eyes. _He is still the same. It was Robb that had changed last night, not Grey Wind, so there was no reason to fear him._ She let him pass her and walk into the chambers with Robb. She imagined that Robb needed to see him and re-establish a sense of comfort as well.

 

“Is Smalljon or the Greatjon about?” she asked Robert.

 

“Smalljon was breaking his fast and asked me to remain here until he returned,” he said.

 

“Adair, I need to find him. I must also find the maester. Perhaps we should begin in the Great Hall. Hopefully, I will also find Jeyne Westerling,” Deirdre commanded.

 

As two of them walked through the halls, Northmen would pause and bow their heads to her, a mixture of sympathy and respect on their faces. She knew word of Bran’s and Rickon’s deaths would spread quickly though the castle. The amount of grief written on their faces showed her which ones knew the boys and which men merely felt sympathy for their king’s family. Deirdre was always so touched by the sheer love for the Starks that the Northmen felt. Even the men from the Riverlands looked profoundly sympathetic toward the situation.

 

_They are fierce men but they are also brothers, fathers, and sons. They know loss; they all do._ To her it seemed that the Northmen who oft times appeared cold to outsiders, loved more deeply and were more loyal than southerners. Her thoughts drifted to Lord Karstark. He was still vengeful and angry and it seemed to consume him more than grief. Losing Torrhen had pushed him too far and the anger was all that remained. She hoped Robb never became so bitter that he suppressed his grief for rage and revenge.

 

After what seemed like an endless amount of time, they found their way to the great hall. The Crag was a maze of short halls that twisted onto each other, sometimes seeming to go nowhere, and between the people who lived there and Robb’s men, it was way too crowded. Seeing Smalljon at a table near the front, Deirdre made her way to him after stopping a servant to send food up for Robb. He rose quickly and said, “Your Grace, my lord father just went to see the king. How is he?”

 

“His wounds are healing nicely I think,” she said, noting the other men at the table rising as well. “The grief…well, it will take time but he wishes to meet with you and gather updates.”

 

“Your Grace, Prince Bran and Prince Rickon will be avenged,” an Umber man swore. “Lord Eddard’s youngest sons, merely children…it’s a travesty.”

 

Deirdre nodded, afraid if she spoke that tears would begin again. “Please sit. Finish breaking your fast. I’m certain you’ll excuse us.”

 

Smalljon held her elbow as they moved through the crowded room. They had just entered into the anti-chamber outside the room when a servant rushed up. “Your Grace, my lord, if it pleases you, Lady Westerling needs to speak with you at once.”

 

“It does not please me,” Deirdre said sharply and the girl flinched. Taking a deep breath, she toned her annoyance down. “I spoke with Lady Westerling yesterday and explained to her that I was here for the king and did not have time to listen to her complaints. Now I must find the maester. Where is he?”

 

“He’s with Lady Westerling, Your Grace. She said it was of the utmost importance or she wouldn’t trouble you during your time of grief.”

 

“Fine,” Deirdre relented with a sigh. “Smalljon come with us. I’ve told her to address her complaints to you. Perhaps she’ll understand I meant it this time.” He followed her and Adair silently.

The girl led them to the same room where she’d met the lady and her brother the day before. This time the maester, Jeyne, a younger girl and an even younger boy were there with them. Jeyne’s eyes were red from crying and Deirdre noticed she had some bruises on her face and neck.

 

“What is this?” she asked quickly. “Jeyne?”

 

“One of your men did this to her!” Lady Westerling practically screeched at Deirdre. “You said my family would be safe and…look at her. I fear for my younger daughter now as well.”

 

Deirdre was taken aback, horrified that this had happened to the person who had cared for Robb so much. “Lady Westerling, calm down and let your daughter tell me what happened.” Sitting down in front of Jeyne, she noticed that the girl avoided her eyes and seemed too scared to say anything. Glancing around the full room, she said, “Please, everyone wait outside the room. I wish to speak to Jeyne alone.”

 

For a long moment everyone hesitated, especially Lady Westerling, but Deirdre nodded. When Adair remained, she said, “Please, Adair. I’ll be safe with you outside the door.” After a moment, he nodded and left the two women alone.

 

Once alone, Deirdre looked back at Jeyne taking in her split lip, bruises on her neck and blackened eye. She took Jeyne’s hands gently and said, “I need you to speak true, Jeyne. I would not ever harm you. What happened and who did this?”

 

Jeyne had silent tears running down her face and she said, “I don’t know his name. He had a sigil of the Twins on his doublet though, so I assume he was a Frey. He had black hair and beard. I was coming from my sister’s room and he followed me. I asked him if he needed something. He said he needed company. Then he pushed me into my father’s bedchamber. I tried to scream and he hit me across the mouth. Then he…” The tears flowed more freely and she sobbed. Deirdre didn’t need to hear the details.

 

“Have you seen this man before? Was he older or younger?”

 

“He was older than me by many years. He was one of the men that scaled our walls during the battle. And he said if the king didn’t want me, then he’d happily take me,” Jeyne sobbed and quickly said, “I only cared for the king’s health, Your Grace. I did nothing more than that.”

 

“I know you’ve done nothing wrong, Jeyne. I appreciate all that you have done for the king. It grieves me that you were hurt in any way.” Deirdre sat back for a moment. It had to be Black Walder. The description fit him and no one else would be so bold. But she wasn’t certain who scaled the walls of the Crag. “Jeyne, I must ask Smalljon to come back in here. I’m certain your mother will want to as well.”

 

“Yes, Your Grace,” Jeyne said, wiping her eyes with her hand. She attempted to straighten her gown and Deirdre noticed a few tears in it. Obviously this was the gown she’d been wearing when she was raped.

 

As soon as Smalljon came into the room, Deirdre asked him quietly who scaled the walls. “Black Walder and myself,” he answered, glancing at Jeyne. Fury filled his eyes as he asked, “Did _he_ …”

 

“Yes, it must have been him. It was a Frey at least and her description of him and what he did during the battle fits.”

 

“My daughter is ruined now,” Lady Westerling said angrily. “The maester gave her moon tea, but she is no longer innocent. I expect His Grace to make this right.”

 

“Lady Westerling, there is nothing we can do to make this _right_ ,” Deirdre said calmly. “We can attempt to see that Lady Jeyne has justice, but we cannot restore to her what was taken. I wish I could undo the harm done to your daughter. That is simply not possible. I will see to it that this man is punished. Unfortunately, Jeyne, I will need you to come with us. I suspect I know who has done this but I need to make certain it is the right man, before I accuse him.”

 

Jeyne’s eyes widened and she shook her head at first in terror. Deirdre felt horrible causing Jeyne more pain by forcing her to face her rapist, but Deirdre couldn’t accuse the wrong man.

 

“My lady,” Smalljon stepped forward and spoke gently. “I will personally make certain no harm comes to you.”

 

“And can either of you assure my daughter will still be able to find a suitable marriage now that she’s been…” Lady Westerling trailed off looking at her daughter. Deirdre realized with disgust that she was more concerned about Jeyne’s ability to find a rich and powerful husband now that she was ‘ruined’.

 

“I’m certain His Grace can…” she began but was cut off by Smalljon.

 

“If it pleases my lady, I would be honored to take her as my bride.”

 

Jeyne’s gaze flew to his and Deirdre was stunned speechless for a few moments, staring at Smalljon. Unfortunately, Lady Westerling was not.

 

“My daughter deserves a lord or a landed knight. Not one of the King’s guards.”

 

“Jon is heir to House Umber and Last Hearth,” Deirdre replied sharply. “He’s more than a landed knight. One day he will be a Lord.”

 

Lady Westerling considered that a moment before her next protest. “But that’s nearly Wildling territory! It’s not suitable for my…”

 

“It pleases me,” Jeyne said quietly and Deirdre noticed that her eyes hadn’t left Smalljon’s.

 

Deirdre couldn’t resist a smile. Apparently despite what had happened to her, Jeyne saw through Smalljon’s huge and terrifying exterior and knew he was a good-hearted gentle giant. She realized that while Robb was injured, his guards, including Smalljon, must have spent time with Jeyne. Deirdre’s first night at the Crag, Smalljon and Jeyne had been with her for awhile and seemed friendly with each other. But the way he looked at Jeyne now was more than just friendly. He seemed genuinely taken with her and upset that she’d been hurt. Jeyne’s mother still looked horrified, which only made Deirdre happier.

 

“First, we need to make certain that we know who has done this,” Deirdre said. “Jeyne, you will come with us to see the king. Lady Westerling, you may wait for your daughter here. I will see that she is returned to you as soon as possible.”

 

Not giving the woman time to argue, Deirdre swept out of the room followed by Smalljon and Jeyne. Jeyne took Smalljon’s offered arm causing Adair to glance at them in surprise before turning to Deirdre with his mouth agape. Deirdre shook her head gently and he said nothing. By the time they reached the hall where Robb was, Deirdre could hear the yelling and curses flying. She wondered what could possibly have happened now.

 

“How dare you accuse me of treason based on the word of a Lannister man?” Black Walder yelled at Robb, who was being held back by Dacey and Robert. The Greatjon held onto the collar of Black Walder’s doublet.

 

“You plotted to kill my wife and heir so I would marry one of your blood. What is that if not treason?” Robb yelled back, his sword drawn. Deirdre had never seen him so angry. “Lord Umber, I want this man put in shackles in the deepest, darkest hole until I’ve recovered my strength to have off his head!”

 

“Your Grace, my son would never do such a thing,” Ser Ryman protested strongly. “This Lord Brax lies in order to secure his release.”

 

Deirdre’s heart was in her throat as she watched the scene before her. Suddenly remembered why she’d brought Jeyne here, she turned to her and observed her fear in her eyes. “Is that the man?” She asked and Jeyne nodded quickly, tears in her eyes. Deirdre shifted her gaze back to the Freys. “Your Grace.” Robb turned to look at her. “I have just learned Black Walder Frey also raped Lady Jeyne Westerling last night.”

 

Black Walder looked at her in shock that soon turned to rage before he spat, “That whore lies! I did not touch her. Your Grace, surely you do not believe the word of these Lannister loyalists over your own men. Even the queen is a Lannister by blood.”

 

“Are you my man, Black Walder?” Robb asked, deathly calm. “It seems of late that you’ve done more to cause my doubt in your loyalty. Lord Brax has had no contact with Lady Jeyne, so how would they both know to accuse the same man? Greatjon, do as I ordered…”

 

“Your Grace,” Ser Ryman interjected. “I know you are grieving and, as you once told me, each man handles grief differently. Do not give a command that you cannot repeal.”

 

“Is that a threat?” Robb asked taking a step toward the man. Deirdre saw how pale he was and knew he was still in pain. She worried that he’d be forced to fight one of the Freys.

 

Ser Ryman stiffened and glanced around the hall. Turning his gaze back to Robb, he warned, “I will not stand by and watch you put my son in chains or behead him. Not while I draw breath. There are more men loyal to House Frey than your Northmen in this castle now. Do you wish to risk a battle within your ranks?”

 

Smalljon lunged forward, grabbing Ser Ryman by the neck and slamming him against the wall. Ser Brynden had arrived by then and was attempting to calm the situation. Adair began to take Deirdre and Jeyne away from the men, pulling them down the hall and forcing them into another room. When he shut the door, Deirdre protested but he refused to move out of the way so she could open it again.

  
“Your Grace, my duty is to keep _you_ safe. You will remain here until things have settled.”

 

Seeing she had no choice, she began to pace. She heard noises outside and walked over to look out the window. Some of the men were breaking camp and preparing to leave. She watched in surprise as Ser Ryman and Black Walder both came out of the castle together. Their squires rushed forward with their mounts. Some of the men were leading Olyvar out of the castle as well, as if he had no choice. With a look back over his shoulder towards the castle, Ser Ryman grabbed a Stark banner and threw it on the ground.

 

“They’re leaving,” she said quietly to Adair. “All of the Freys are leaving, including Black Walder. I promised Jeyne justice.”

 

“Ser Ryman wouldn’t have left without Black Walder. The Freys outnumber the other houses here right now. The king wouldn’t want fighting amongst his men,” he explained. “I’m certain His Grace chose the safety of the remaining men and the Westerlings over punishing Black Walder. Surely Jeyne will understand that.”

 

Deirdre turned back and watched for a moment, surprised by the number of men from the Twins there were. “I must speak with my husband,” she said as she walked toward the door. “Jeyne, please come with us and I will find someone to escort you back to your mother.”

 

The hall outside Robb’s door was still crowded but everyone allowed her to pass. She didn’t see Smalljon so she sent Adair with Jeyne as she entered the bedchambers. Smalljon, Lord Umber, Dacey, Ser Brynden, and Ned were all inside with Robb. The Maester was checking his wound as Robb sat tense and still. As soon as the man was done, Robb excused him.

 

“Your Grace, we must leave as soon as possible. The Freys know how many men you have and could turn around and catch us unaware,” Ser Brynden insisted. “They think we mean to stay a few days more. I also think we should take a different route than we had originally planned”

 

“We will leave by midday,” Robb said, standing. His gaze rose to Deirdre and he said, “Is Lady Jeyne all right? I couldn’t punish Black Walder without putting everyone, including her, in further danger.”

 

“I understand.” Deirdre nodded and glanced over at Smalljon for a moment. “Jeyne’s wounds will heal but I’m certain the fear will be less now that Black Walder is no long here. Her mother insisted we make this right since her daughter would be unlikely to find a proper husband. It appears Smalljon had an easy answer to that.” Everyone turned to look at Smalljon and Deirdre almost smiled, despite the somber circumstances. She’d never seen such a fierce man look so embarrassed. “I do hope we’ll have time for a small wedding before we go.”

 

“You’re to marry her?” the Greatjon burst out in surprise. “That slip of a girl? She’s to live at Last Hearth? She’ll blow away with the first winter wind!”

 

“She’s beautiful as well as being kind and clever, Father,” Smalljon began but his father only laughed and clapped his arm around him. Smalljon admitted, “I’m surprised she was willing to agree though.”

 

“Despite the circumstances, she’s lucky to marry someone so kind and brave,” Deirdre said with a smile.

 

“Once she marries an Umber, her family will be in jeopardy from the Lannisters. Tywin will suffer no disloyalty amongst his own bannermen,” Robb pointed out. “We will need to take them with us. I believe Lord Westerling is being held at Seagard. Have him brought to Riverrun. I doubt they have a Godswood here, Smalljon.”

 

“Perhaps it’s best we postpone this wedding a few days. Certainly, Lady Westerling can wait that long since it was not Smalljon who took her daughter’s innocence,” Ser Brynden pointed out. “There is a Godswood in Riverrun suitable for a Northern wedding.”

 

“Your Grace, I would prefer to marry Lady Jeyne here in her home with only my lord father and her family present,” Smalljon said. “Considering all that has happened with the Freys and your brothers, not to mention what Lady Jeyne has suffered at Black Walder’s hands, while I am quite pleased with the turn of events, this is not a joyous occasion for most. I do not feel comfortable having a wedding with a feast. It will only take a short time to do it here and it would be less disruptive to all if no one else knew beforehand. If we marry in Riverrun, others will insist on a feast. House Umber will use any excuse to feast and drink. I do not think that your lady mother would wish that now.”

 

Robb was silent for a moment before nodding. “If that is what you want, do as you must. But let the Westerlings know we must be ready to depart before midday. Lord Umber, please put some of your men in charge of breaking their camp while you and Smalljon attend to the wedding and the Westerlings.”

 

“Since I will be little help with the breaking of camp, I can help Smalljon,” Deirdre suggested. “I think, under the circumstances, it would be best if one of us was at the wedding.”

 

Robb agreed and the plans were put into motion. Deirdre found some servants to help make her more presentable and they even had a clean gown that fit her. She was surprised but pleased when Robb insisted on attending the wedding as well but she knew he felt strong affection for the Umbers. Smalljon stumbled through the vows a little as he had no experience in the Faith of the Seven, but Deirdre caught Jeyne mouthing the words to him when he did.

 

“She loves him,” she whispered to Robb in surprise. “I thought at first she might at least see that he was a good man and, perhaps realize he was kind, but it’s beyond that. You can see in her eyes. She _loves_ him.”

 

Robb smiled and kissed her cheek. “And he loves her or we wouldn’t be here. Smalljon isn’t a chivalrous knight saving a damsel in distress. Lord Umber would not allow his son to marry a woman that another had disgraced if he thought that was the _only_ reason.”

 

When the couple was nearly finished with their vows, Robb took Deirdre’s hand and brought it to his lips. The loving look he gave her made her heart ache with the intensity of her feelings. She wished they were alone. She wanted nothing more than to kiss her husband and feel the warmth of his embrace. She thought back to their wedding. She had thought she loved Jon but even then, Robb gazed at her adoringly.

 

“Robb Stark, I love you,” she whispered, her eyes growing misty with emotions. “I never knew love like ours truly existed.”

 

He put his arm around her waist and rested his other hand on her belly before turning to watch the final moments of the wedding. Deirdre could almost swear she saw tears in Lord Umber’s eyes but after the couple kissed, he just marched over and embraced Jeyne with such exuberance he picked the poor girl up off her feet. Lady Westerling looked properly scandalized.

 

“I must finish preparing for our departure. Let us congratulate the couple as well as Lady Westerling. She looks overjoyed,” Robb smirked at the sight of the woman preventing the Greatjon from embracing her. After a few moments, she did allow him to kiss her hand.

 

“Are you certain this journey will not be too taxing? You’re barely healed.” She rested her hand on his cheek to see if he was still feverish.

 

“The journey won’t be as taxing as an attack from the Freys would be.”

 

x-x-x

 

Their arrival at Riverrun was a strange, uncomfortable affair for Deirdre. They were cheered by small folk and the Stark host as they rode up to the castle where they were met by Edmure and some of his knights. But some people, mostly Northmen, were aware of the loss of the king’s brothers and were somber. The people of the Riverlands were more proper than the Northmen and quick to bow or curtsey to her and Robb, holding in the same position with their heads down,  waiting for them to wave them up. Deirdre held Robb’s hand and let him lead the way.

 

His uncle Edmure bowed to them and Robb waved him up with a smile. “Greetings uncle. It has been too long. May I present my wife, Deirdre.”

 

“I have heard much and more about your queen but no one did her beauty and grace justice,” Edmure said, taking Deirdre’s hand and kissing it.

 

“And I have been warned much and more about your flattery.” Deirdre laughed.

  
She was surprised that Lady Stark didn't meet them then realized she must still be confined to her quarters due to releasing Jaime. Grey Wind's presence startled many who had never seen a direwolf so Robb asked that he be taken to the kennels. Then he suggested that he and Deirdre be allowed to go to their quarters where they could refresh themselves before seeing his mother and grandfather. Edmure insisted on walking with them.

 

“How is my mother?” Robb asked.

 

Edmure glanced at him with sadness in his eyes and said, “Cat is not the same woman that I last saw. She’s lost too much I fear.”

 

“She’s stronger than she seems,” Robb answered but Deirdre saw concern for his mother. “I’ll spend time with her tonight.”

 

“There’s a feast in an hour,” Edmure replied. “Forgive me. I should have realized you would prefer time in peace tonight. But if you wish, I can make excuses…”

 

Robb shook his head. “No. It’s been quite some time since I’ve dined with my men and some of the Riverlords I haven’t met at all. Mother will understand and we’ll make time tomorrow. Will Grandfather be joining us? I haven’t seen him in many years.”

 

“I’m sad to say he likely wouldn’t know you now. He’s confused most of the time,” Edmure said quietly, a shadow of grief on his face.

 

“One more loss,” Robb said under his breath and Deirdre squeezed his hand, watching him attempting to retain a look of unconcern. His ‘lord face’ as Bran once called it, this mask of cold indifference. Now it was a king face but it was no less foreign to see on her kind, clever, and passionate husband’s face.

 

Edmure took them to beautiful well appointed bedchambers that already contained all of their belongings. “Catelyn had a couple of gowns made for you, Your Grace. She thought you might enjoy some new, larg…I mean…” His voice trailed off as he blushed.

 

Deirdre laughed and said, “It’s all right, Edmure. I am aware that I am growing larger, more so than anyone else I assure you. It’s hard not to notice when I can no longer see my feet.” She picked up a gown and ran her fingers over the detail. They were nicer, more extravagant than the few she’d had made while they traveled. Cat had also taken care of having some new things made for Robb as well: rich, elegant fabrics more suitable for feasts than battle.

 

Edmure excused him so they could prepare for the feast and handmaids bought in hot water for a rather large tub. Once they were alone, Deirdre helped Robb remove his tunic without disturbing his bandages. The wound hadn’t started bleeding again, she noted with relief. They bathed before handmaids came in and helped her dress for the feast. One of the girls was from Riverrun and swept her hair up in one of the complex designs that reminded her of her days in King’s Landing. She noted Robb’s frown of disapproval. She knew he preferred her looking more like a Northerner.

 

Her gown had rich reds in it which disturbed her. She hadn’t worn red since her marriage, hoping to distance herself from anything related to the Lannisters. But Catelyn had this gown made with Tully colors, red and blue. On her, it reminded her too much of her family. “I want to change into the blue gown,” she commanded. The handmaiden looked surprised but began unlacing her gown.

 

“No,” Robb said quietly, studying her in the looking glass. “I know why you wish to change it but it would be an honor to the Riverlords.” The handmaiden stopped what she was doing and looked back and forth between them.

 

Despite her feeling of how wrong it seemed, Deirdre nodded. She asked the girl to retrieve the white fur cloak with the direwolves from her wedding. At least that would hide the majority of the red panels on the sides of the gown. She also wore the crown that had been a gift from the Riverlords. After they were alone, Robb kissed her. “You truly are a queen.”

 

“I look like Cersei,” she whispered with a frown. “These people will see a lion in the midst once again.”

 

“I once thought you looked like her. You have the same color eyes and hair. But now I realize Cersei’s eyes have never been kind, her smiles never been genuine. There is softness to your face that shows more humanity and kindness in you. Cersei may have once looked like you but all that goodness has died and left behind a hard cruelty of which you’re incapable of having.” Robb smiled trailing his fingers softly down the sides of her face. “You were always perfection to me but I stopped seeing you through merely my eyes long ago. Now my heart sees you and there is no beauty greater than yours.”

 

Tears filled her eyes as she leaned into him and returned his smile. His words always gave her comfort, soothed her doubts. “You are my strength,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him.

 

“And you are mine.”


	4. Chapter 4

 

_A/N Thank you to CalliopeGalaxy for the beta! Thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback!_

**Chapter 4**

 

The feast was loud and tedious for Deirdre, so many toasts to various victories and promises to win back the north. Lady Stark looked equally miserable. Deirdre had insisted that Catelyn sit near her rather than with her brother so she’d be away from the revelry as much as possible.

 

“I’m sorry this seems such a joyous occasion when I know your heart is elsewhere,” she said to Lady Stark. “How is Lord Tully?”

 

Catelyn’s eyes barely glanced at her before she gazed out over the crowded hall again. Her mind seemed elsewhere as well. “It won’t be long, I fear; maybe tonight, maybe a few days.”

 

Deirdre attempted to say something to comfort her good mother but nothing seemed right so she remained silent. After a moment though, she reached out and took Catelyn’s hand in her own, squeezing it gently. Lady Stark looked down at their hands for a moment and Deirdre could see her fighting to keep her composure.

 

“Robb,” she said, turning to her husband. “The feast has gone on long enough.” When he looked at her curiously, she gestured to his mother with a slight tilt of her head.

 

Robb nodded and gestured for the steward, Utherydes Wayn, to announce their departure.  Robb insisted everyone continue their celebration but asked to speak with his mother, Edmure, and Ser Brynden. Taking her hand, he followed Edmure to Lord Tully’s private audience chamber. The others followed them as well as Ned and Robert. Deirdre had stressed to Robb that she didn’t need ten guards within the castle and he should make use of her guards to give his own time to rest. Deirdre’s guards had not seen battle while all of Robb’s had. And Smalljon, his most frequent guard, had just married.

 

“Where is Grey Wind?” Lady Stark asked as soon as they entered the smaller room. Edmure poured wine for everyone.

 

“He’s in the yard. Something happened at the Crag…I do not wish to speak of it,” Robb said and she saw the flicker of pain in his eyes. “He shouldn’t be in the castle. He’s killed men and has grown wild. Besides he doesn’t like some of the Westerlings.”

 

Lady Stark looked even more disturbed by that. “He’s part of you Robb. If he doesn’t like someone, you must trust his instinct.”

 

“I am not a wolf, despite what they call me. I am not…” his voice trailed off and he removed the crown from his head, staring at it.

 

The room grew uncomfortably silent. Deirdre reached over and took Robb’s hand, before she turned to Catelyn. “Grey Wind just needs time to settle in. I’m sure in a day or so, it will be fine.” Catelyn studied her for a long moment before nodding slightly. Deirdre suspected she’d ask for more of an answer later.

 

Robb needed to forgive himself for what happened with Grey Wind. She couldn’t help feel that if Grey Wind picked up on his moods that Robb distancing himself from the direwolf, it might make him more unruly around others, much like an abused dog that sees every movement as a threat.

 

“I was not allowed news while you were gone. What has happened with the Westerlings that has won them to our cause? And I cannot help but notice that the Freys are absent,” Lady Stark asked.

 

“Lord Brax overheard a conversation between two Freys captives when Deirdre rode off to The Crag. One of them said that now they’d never be able to kill the queen and the other replied that Black Walder most likely would not follow through with his promises anyway and if he wanted to kill her so bad, now was his chance since she was going where he was. Lord Brax sent word to the Greatjon who questioned the men. They agreed to talk as long as they were spared. Apparently, the two men had been told that if they killed Deirdre on the way to Riverrun, the Freys still with our troops would help them escape,” Ser Brynden explained. It was the first time Deirdre had heard the details and it sent shivers down her spine.

 

“If those Freys had killed Deirdre, the Northmen would never have allowed them to leave alive,” Lady Stark replied. “Were they foolish enough to believe Black Walder?”

 

“Who knows for certain? They claimed they’d never planned to follow through with the plan to kill her but they _had_ been approached to do so. If they had actually killed her, since they were members of the Lannister armies, it would merely look like the Lannister men had killed the queen, not the Freys,” he answered, shaking his head. “I know that Walder Frey is a desperate man but to plot this way…”

 

“We cannot assume that Lord Walder had a hand in this treachery. If Black Walder planned this alone then he could easily claim it was his lord’s plan. I assume you lost the Freys when you confronted them?” Catelyn asked, looking at Robb.

 

“He denied it and accused Lord Brax of trying to secure his release, which I fully expected he would do. But Smalljon and I had seen one of his squires near the cells a fortnight ago. We’ve been trying to find out who ordered him to go there. Then Deirdre told me that he had raped Jeyne Westerling. Black Walder claimed that neither Lord Brax nor the Westerlings, that _none_ of the Lannister loyalists including Deirdre, could be trusted,” Robb replied, his hand clenching into a fist.  “When Ser Ryman threatened that if I put his son in a cell, his men would fight my men, everything went awry. In the end, I let them both leave rather than risk harm to my men although they all were willing to fight after what happened.”

 

“Then how did Jon Umber come to marry Lady Jeyne? I had thought…”

 

“Lady Westerling demanded that Robb offer an arrangement for a suitable marriage. Before I could even answer her, Smalljon offered to marry Jeyne,” Deirdre said with a smile. “The two of them spent time alone while Robb was injured. Smalljon was captivated by her but he was surprised when she said yes. While he married her to save her honor, there is genuine feeling there. Lady Westerling was not pleased that it wasn’t a more _advantageous_ marriage, but Jeyne agreed to it so quickly, obviously feeling the same as Smalljon, her mother barely had much time to object.”

 

The room grew quiet again and the Blackfish brought up some discussions about the war. Deirdre excused herself, knowing she would have little to add to the conversation. She was tired and wished to return to her chambers anyway. She hoped that she could persuade her husband to come to bed earlier tonight so he could rest as well so when he rose to walk her to the door, she whispered in his ear, “Do not leave me in a cold bed too long.” When his gaze returned to hers, she gave him a look that promised it would be worth it if he’d come to bed sooner rather than later. He smiled as he nodded and caressed her cheek subtly. She knew Lady Stark disliked open displays of affection so she wasn’t surprised when he didn’t kiss her.

 

Ned followed her quietly and when they were alone in one of the hallways, she asked, “You’re very subdued of late, Ned. Is there something wrong?”

 

He seemed hesitant to answer her so she stopped walking and turned to him, expectantly. “The other night has bothered me, Your Grace; what happened with Grey Wind. I’m worried for your safety,” he finally admitted.

 

Deirdre knew that Ned was aware of Robb’s concerns about warging so she could understand why he was worried. But she didn’t know how to explain how she knew that night that the direwolf wouldn’t hurt her. After a moment she said, “Grey Wind is bonded to Robb and I know Robb would never hurt me. But also, I carry his child inside me, his blood. I knew the wolf would sense that. I can’t explain how I know but Grey Wind and I are somehow connected through my child.”

 

“You’re putting a lot of faith in your suspicions. None of us truly know about wargs or even about direwolves other than stories we are told as children. I don’t believe that His Grace would ever do you harm, intentionally, but I am not certain I hold the same belief for Grey Wind. If there comes a time where I am forced to choose between your safety and that of the wolf’s, you cannot ask me to spare him,” Ned insisted. “His Grace would not want that either.”

 

Deirdre felt a flutter of fear in her stomach and she shook her head. “I do not want you to let him hurt me or my child but you must not kill Grey Wind. Wound him if you must but if you kill him and Robb is…somehow connected, we do not know what that would do to him. If you kill Grey Wind, it could kill your king.”

 

Pain crossed Ned’s handsome face and he nodded. “But I would do what I must do. The king charged me with your protection. It would grieve me but I know that if I did not, if per chance Grey Wind killed you or your child, His Grace would never forgive me but more than that, he would never forgive himself. And he would insist that Grey Wind immediately be killed anyway.”

 

Some people came down the hall so the two of them silently walked the rest of the way to her chambers.  Deirdre felt conflicted by Ned’s words. She knew it was true: if Grey Wind ever hurt her, Robb would never forgive himself. He had not forgiven himself for warging into the direwolf and scaring her. Surely there was someone who knew more about wargs. When she reached their chamber doors, she turned to Ned and asked, “Would you ask Lady Mormont to break her fast with me tomorrow? I wish to ask her some questions about these stories. Perhaps she knows more that we do.”

 

“I do not think His Grace wants this known to his bannermen…”

 

“Dearest Ned, I am giving birth to a child of the north soon. It only makes sense that I know more about these fables of the north. The tales that Old Nan told the Stark children should be passed down and I do not know if the king will have time to spare to teach me these things. I know nothing of The Long Night other than vague references. I should learn about giants, children of the forest, White Walkers and wights, and wargs as well. Perhaps Lady Mormont could tell me some stories or she knows someone like Old Nan who knows them as well.”

 

Ned shook his head with a smile. “As you command, Your Grace. When the king returns with Robert, I’ll go see Lady Mormont.”

 

“I also wish to speak to my uncle. I’ll ask Robb about it later tonight but let the Greatjon or Edmure, whoever is in charge of the prisoners, know that I want to see him. I suspect there will be a trading of prisoners soon and I would enjoy speaking with him before he departs.”

 

After he left, Deirdre allowed her handmaiden to take her hair down and brush it while she thought about what Ned had said. She had to find out more about wargs. Robb thought he could will it away and acted like it was something horrible but she wasn’t sure if it was. Perhaps it was the fact that Grey Wind had felt Robb’s pain when learning his brother’s death and seemed to want to protect Robb from it. How could it possibly be bad if the direwolf was protecting him? True, he could become overprotective or hurt someone who wasn’t threatening Robb. But she’d seen Summer after he’d protected Bran. She knew he and Shaggydog had protected her as well and she was not even of Stark blood.

 

Grey Wind never truly threatened a person unless Robb was in danger. Though he had bitten off the Greatjon’s fingers those many moons ago in Winterfell, Grey Wind barely acknowledged the man anymore and acted like a playful pup with Smalljon and sometimes Adair, the two both treating him like a large dog instead of a dangerous beast. Dacey often had to brush him off because he would want her food and knew she was the most likely to give in to him, but he never snapped at her fingers no matter how many times she pushed him away. And when he wasn’t hunting, he spent his nights beside their cot so Robb could stroke his fur until he fell asleep.

 

Grey Wind could be a fierce killer, but Lady Stark was right: he was part of Robb and should not be suppressed. Deirdre saw so much of her husband in the wolf, more so than the wolf in her husband. People often referred to any perceived ‘wildness’ in the Starks as the ‘blood of the wolf’. She’d heard many times that Brandon and Lyanna Stark both had the blood of the wolf in them, were prone to bursts of uncontrollable emotions. And there were times when Robb seemed wilder than others, times when he’d make love to her with such passion that it was a little frightening but it was so exciting that she didn’t mind. She’d never admit to Robb that Jon had been like that most of the time. It was exhilarating but with Jon it seemed barely contained, like any moment he could lose control. Robb would barely slip out of control before quickly restraining himself. Of the two, Robb had always had more power over his emotions, while Jon would let his overtake him.  She wondered if the Wall had taught him some control, and found herself wishing that it hadn’t changed him too much.

 

Jon was a warg. Deirdre knew that without a doubt now that she’d seen more of it with Robb. That was why she dreamed about Jon often, her dreams of him as frequent as those of Ghost. It still bothered her that Jon was in her dreams so much as it felt like a subconscious betrayal of Robb.  She never dreamed the wolf dreams of any person but Jon. The others were just senses of Bran, Rickon, or Robb, but only their wolves were in her dreams.  Jon was never far away from her. Robb had always said that wolves mate for life and had claimed Jon still would love her. She had never answered him because she didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to tell Robb that she could feel when Jon thought of her. As she slept, her heart sought Jon out in turn, even as Robb held her. In her dreams, Robb was always out of her reach, moving further away from her. Tears filled her eyes as she realized that no matter what she did, Robb was somehow leaving her.

 

x-x-x

 

Jon watched the fire dance before him. The camp was quiet save for the sound of the wood crackling.

 

“What’s the matter?” Ygritte asked him softly as she sat up beside him.

 

He shook his head. How could he explain his feelings? She understood about wargs but he couldn’t explain all of his dreams. _Were they all his?_ “I had disturbing dreams,” he whispered, running a hand through his hair. “Go back to sleep.”

 

“What did you dream?” When he remained silent, she pulled his arm. “Come on, tell me. It might be important, maybe a dream of the future.”

 

“No. It was about my family. About my brothers and…nevermind.” Jon turned away. Suddenly he felt he was suffocating. He had to get away from her, leave the camp, but he knew he couldn’t.

 

“You dreamed of her, didn’t you?” Her voice didn’t sound angry or bitter, just curious.

 

“They’re all in danger,” he blurted out. “Soon they will all be separated and in danger. I can’t help them or stop it, but am certain that it will happen soon.”

 

Ygritte put her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Maybe you’re not meant to interfere. Danger is all around us, every moment. If they’re not aware of that, then they’re fools.”

 

Jon jerked back to look at her. “My little brothers are mere children. And Deirdre is…she’s not innocent but she’s gentle and caring...”

 

“Children need to grow up quickly in the winter. And gentle is next to the same as _weak_. If you want her to survive the winter, what is coming for us all, then you’d best hope she grows strong. The winter is not a time for gentle, soft women. Look around Jon Snow. Gentleness is a kiss of death.”

 

Glaring at her, Jon said, “ _You_ know nothing. Her gentleness comes from strength, not weakness. She’s suffered in her life and she could have grown bitter and cold, like the rest of her family. But despite all she’s endured, she remains kind. It’s easier to feel only anger and hate than it is to love.”

 

Ygritte studied him for a few moments before asking, “Why are you here, Jon Snow? Why aren’t you with her?”

 

He turned away from her, staring into the fire for a long time, feeling the pain of losing her once again. “Because I let others separate us rather than fighting for her. I let her go.”

 

“Why?” Ygritte pressed him, and he turned to look at her, wondering if she pitied him or hated him for telling her the truth. But she seemed genuinely confused.

 

“Because I was weak, because she deserved better than a bastard son, because I was afraid I’d hurt her, break her. I pushed her away before she could leave me first.”

 

Ygritte laughed bitterly. “You know nothing, Jon Snow. If a woman loves you, she doesn’t care if you’re a bastard or a high lord. Rather than fight for her, you ran away to the Wall and swore oaths never to touch a woman again. Then you broke those oaths. And still you think of her. Perhaps she did deserve better, your Deidre, deserved a man who was willing to fight for her. But saying it’s because you’re a bastard is a lie. It’s because you were weak. All you kneelers are too weak to see your own flaws. You blame it on things that don’t matter.”

 

“I’m not weak anymore,” he muttered, burying his hand in her hair and pulling her to him. “I stole you, didn’t I?” He kissed her aggressively and she lay backwards, pulling him so he was on top of her.

 

“Do you want me to make you forget her, Jon Snow? Or do you want me to become her? Because I can make you forget for a time but I’ll never be her,” she asked, pulling at his tunic.

 

“I just know I want _you_ : here, now. Your kisses keep the ghosts at bay, chase the past away. With you, I can forget who I was. I don’t have to worry you’ll break. I don’t have to be my lord father’s shame. I can just be a man.”

 

“But you’ll always be hers,” she whispered. “I see it now. But I’ll pass the time with you, Jon Snow, until you realize I’ll never fill the emptiness inside you. I’ll keep you warm until the passion that burns for her is enough to make you go to her, the day you stop being weak and afraid of what you feel for her. Or until you _truly_ let her go.”

 

Ygritte knew he didn’t love her, that he might never love her. The guilt gnawed at him, an ugly, unwelcome pain. But he was just playing a part, wasn’t he? He had promised Qhorin Halfhand that he would do whatever it took to convince the wildlings that he was theirs. He’d had to lie with Ygritte or they would have doubted him. She and the others intended to attack his black brothers, the realm he was sworn to protect. So why should he feel guilt for deceiving her, for not loving her? He traced his jaw with his thumb before kissing her again.

 

Before Ygritte, he lain with no one, whore, servant or otherwise, save the one woman he loved. Ygritte might not care if he loved her. But Jon felt a lesser man because of it.

 

_‘Two hearts that beat as one,’_ Mance had said. No. Jon was only playing a part.

 

x-x-x

 

Deirdre woke to a dark room and a soft thud. “Damnit,” she heard Robb mutter and she smiled.

 

“I’m awake. What time is it?”

 

“It’s almost dawn,” he said and now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness she could see his shape as he undressed.

 

“I thought you were coming to bed sooner. I left lanterns lit for you. I meant to wait up for you but I fell asleep.”

 

“I spent time with Mother then others were requiring my attention. Some of the men insisted I drink with them then Edmure had a few things to go over. I didn’t intend to stay away.” He sat down on the bed running his hand over her arm. “I wanted to make love to my wife.”

 

“And she was hoping you would.”

 

“Where’s Ned?” he asked and she laughed.

 

“Well he’s not in here. I sent him to see Lady Mormont when John came on duty.” She sat up and kissed him, pulling him into bed.

 

“John isn’t out there. No one is outside the door which is why I asked,” Robb replied and she noted the concern in his voice. “You said you left lanterns lit?” Suddenly he was fumbling around in the dark. He lit the lantern beside the bed and she blinked a few times.

 

“What’s wrong? The candles probably just burnt out.”

 

“Your guard is gone and the room is dark,” he said pulling a dagger from his things on the floor. He checked through the room and the bathing chamber before returning. Deirdre watched him in silence. Coming closer, he gestured to the pillow on his side of the bed. “What is that?”  

 

Deirdre turned and found a piece of parchment folded in half there. Picking it up, she noted it wasn’t sealed and had her name on it. She opened it with a feeling of dread. The last parchment she’d read was about Rickon and Bran. Reading this one, however, made little sense.

 

“ _Forgive me._ That’s all it says. It’s signed by John,” she glanced up at him.

 

Panic swept across his face and he began picking up his clothes, saying, “Get dressed. Quickly.”

 

As she dressed, she asked what it meant and he shook his head. “I don’t know but something is wrong. John wouldn’t ask for forgiveness if he just left his post. He’s asking forgiveness for something that has happened or is going to happen and I don’t want you in this room alone while I find out.”

 

Robb pulled her through the hallways to the closest room, pounding on the door. After a few muttered curses and threats, the Greatjon jerked open the door so hard it looked like it would come off its hinges. Instantly he looked stunned and apologetic. “Forgive me Your Grace. I didn’t know…”

 

“Something has happened. Deirdre’s guard John is gone. He came into her room and snuffed the candles to leave a note asking her forgiveness.”

 

Lord Umber reached back into the room and came out into the hall with them, fastening on his sword. Deirdre was still unsure of why they were so alarmed. Then she heard Grey Wind howling from the kennels below and her panic level increased. Robb found Ser Brynden who said he’d find the steward to raise the castle. Soon Ned, Robert, Patrick, and Adair were running through the hallway toward them. Dacey almost crashed into them as she and her mother rounded the corner, approaching Robb.

 

“Your Grace, has something happened?” Ned asked, glancing over both Deirdre and Robb as if looking for injuries.

 

“You left John on duty outside our bedchambers, correct?”

 

“Yes, Your Grace. Where…where is he now?” Ned stammered and she could see the guilt in his eyes. He took his role so seriously that any mistakes made by others he took upon himself.

 

“I don’t know. He wasn’t there and he left a note for Deirdre, asking her forgiveness.” Turning to her other guards, he said, “Tear the castle apart until you find him. Wake Lord Karstark and ask him the meaning of this. Adair and Dacey, you stay with the queen. Take her to the Great Hall. Ned, please rouse my mother and uncle. Escort my mother downstairs. Lady Mormont, come with me. I want all of the lords under my command to meet in the Great Hall.”

 

Robb strode off into another direction with the Greatjon and Lady Mormont. Deirdre walked down the stairs with Adair and Dacey to the Great Hall. The whole castle was awake now. Servants were rushing through the halls to light the lanterns and there were noises outside from the soldier’s camps. In the background, she could still hear Grey Wind howling. Part of her wanted to send someone to bring the direwolf inside, but she wasn’t sure that was wise. “What could John have meant, Adair? Has he said anything to any of you?”

 

“No, he hasn’t. I don’t know what he meant but I suspect it is a reason for concern,” Adair said as he opened the heavy wooden doors. The Great Hall had some men in there already. Some wore mail, others had obviously dressed hastily and still looked half-asleep. Servants were pouring hot spiced wine and bringing out bread and butter.

 

They waited for a long time it seemed to her. She sat on the dais with Dacey and Adair behind her. Lady Stark and Ned soon joined them but no one knew anything yet. The hall continued to fill with men. Robb walked in with Lady Mormont and Edmure looking grim. He came to sit beside her on the dais. “Adair and Ned should take you back to our chambers. I do not wish you to see this.”

 

“No, I want to stay with you, no matter what it is,” she replied grasping his arm. Before she could ask him what happened, men came in carrying two bodies on their shoulders. Deirdre’s fingers dug into his arm. She could smell the blood in the air and see by the way the bodies hung limply that they were dead men. When the bodies were laid at the foot of the dais, she gasped in shock.

 

The bodies were two young boys, Lannister squires. Both were distant cousins but she knew Willem Lannister better than the Tion Frey because Willem was the son of Keven Lannister and she’d frequently seen him at Casterly Rock.  They were only boys. She stared at the bloody gashes covering Willem’s body and the gaping wound in Tion’s throat.

 

“Did they try to escape?” she asked Robb, tears in her eyes, and he shook his head.

 

She lowered her head, unable to look at the bodies any longer, not wanting anyone to see the tears she tried to prevent from falling. Lady Stark rested her hand on her arm but said nothing. The whole hall was quiet as a tomb and Deirdre wanted to scream. It was too much. These were children, like Bran and Rickon! Her hand drifted to her belly unconsciously. She had prepared herself for the deaths of her family in battle but she hadn’t prepared herself for this. Little Tion looked like he’d been sleeping when it happened. She wondered if her tears would make the men consider her disloyal to the Starks.

 

“Bring them in,” Robb commanded and Deirdre’s heart dropped into her stomach. She fully expected to look up and see John amongst the men being brought in. It took her a few moments to prepare to face who had done this. When she did raise her gaze, the Greatjon and some of his men were leading in Lord Karstark and four of his own.

 

//“Five,” said Robb when the prisoners stood before him, wet and silent. “Is that all of them?”

 

“There were eight,” rumbled the Greatjon. “We killed two taking them, and a third is dying now.”

 

Robb studied the faces of the captives. “It required eight of you to kill two unarmed squires.”

 

Edmure Tully spoke up. “They murdered two of my men as well, to get into the tower. Delp and Elwood.”

 

“It was no murder, ser,” said Lord Rickard Karstark, no more discomfited by the ropes about his wrists than by the blood that trickled down his face. “Any man who steps between a father and his vengeance asks for death.”

 

 

“I saw your son die that night in the Whispering Wood,” Robb told Lord Karstark. “Tion Frey did not kill Eddard. Willem Lannister did not slay Torrhen. How then can you call this vengeance? This was folly, and bloody murder. Your sons died honorably.”

 

“They died,” said Rickard Karstark, yielding no inch of ground. “The Kingslayer cut them down. These two were of his ilk. Only blood can pay for blood.”

 

“The blood of children?” Robb pointed at the corpses. “How old were they? Twelve, thirteen? Squires.”

 

“Squires die in every battle.”

 

“Die fighting, yes. Tion Frey and Willem Lannister gave up their swords in the Whispering Wood. They were captives, locked in a cell, asleep, unarmed... boys. Look at them!”

 

Lord Karstark looked instead at Catelyn. “Tell your mother to look at them,” he said. “She slew them, as much as I.” \\\

 

Deirdre glanced at Catelyn and saw the guilt on her face. Lord Karstark’s words were had wounded her. Deirdre wished she could stop this because she knew it was only going to get worse.

 

//“My mother had naught to do with this,” Robb said angrily. “This was your work. Your murder. Your treason.”

 

“How can it be treason to kill Lannisters, when it is not treason to free them?” asked Karstark harshly. “Has Your Grace forgotten that we are at war with Casterly Rock?” With that he looked at Deirdre for a long time and she saw that once again, to him, she was just a Lannister. He hated her as much as these two boys, as much as he hated Jaime.  Nothing she had done, no loyalty she had shown could erase the fact that she was a lion. Lord Karstark returned his gaze to Robb and continued, “In war you kill your enemies. Didn’t your father teach you that, boy?”

 

“Boy?” The Greatjon dealt Rickard Karstark a buffet with a mailed fist that sent the other lord to his knees.

 

“Leave him!” Robb’s voice rang with command. Umber stepped back away from the captive.

 

Lord Karstark spit out a broken tooth. “Yes, Lord Umber, leave me to the king. He means to give me a scolding before he forgives me. That’s how he deals with treason, our King in the North.” He smiled a wet red smile. “or should I call you the King Who Lost the North, Your Grace?”

 

The Greatjon snatched a spear from the man beside him and jerked it to his shoulder. “Let me spit him, sire. Let me open his belly so we can see the color of his guts.”\\\

 

Deirdre rose quickly. When Robb stood beside her, putting his hand on her to stay her, she shook her head, whispering, “I cannot...” She swallowed deeply. “I know what you must do. I will stand by you, as I always have, when you carry out justice. But I want no part of the discussion of what that justice will be. No matter what is said or who says it, everything will be laid at my feet and you will be accused of listening to a Lannister in determining Lord Karstark’s fate. This must be decided while I am not here or it will come back to haunt us. I will wait for you in our chambers. Send someone for me if you…” her voice trailed off for a moment then her eyes sought his. “I will be by your side then.”

 

Robb nodded, his face grim. “I will send Dacey for you. Stay with Adair and Ned at all times.” He turned to the two men. “See that one of you checks our chambers before she is left alone.”

 

“Yes, Your Grace.”

 

Deirdre glanced once more at Willem and Tion, her heart tightening. She felt Lord Karstark’s look of pure hatred towards her. She met his eyes boldly and held his glare for a few moments. Ned put his hand on the back of her arm and she let him lead her away from the hall. The men separated as she walked through, bowing their heads. She didn’t feel any change in feelings from them which was heartening. But she mourned that Lord Karstark’s grief had led to this. As soon as she stepped out of the Great Hall, she sobbed and rushed up the stairs to their chambers. Ned and Adair followed her but did not say a word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _The two end sections with Lord Karstark that are in between // and \\\ are direct quotes from the book, A Storm of Swords, Chapter 20 Catelyn. The dialog was so brilliant I couldn't begin to change it so I quoted it._


	5. Chapter 5

 

_A/N Thank you to CalliopeGalaxy for the beta! So sorry for the delay! Lately my muse has ADHD!_

_Thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback!_

* * *

**Chapter 5**

 

Deirdre walked with Adair to the solar nearby their chambers. She was pleased to find Jeyne already there. The two had developed a friendship since their time at The Crag that helped Deirdre quite a bit. Jeyne wasn’t someone under Robb’s command like Dacey and Deirdre felt she could speak of things other than wars and battles.

 

“It’s good to see you, Your Grace,” Jeyne said, rising to kiss her cheek.

 

Deirdre had left Adair outside the closed door, so she sat down and lightly admonished Jeyne, “I’ve told you there is no need to call me that when we’re alone. I grow weary of titles among friends. You’ll notice that Dacey and Smalljon frequently forget when we’re in a small group.”

 

“Jon is not the best person to model my manners and courtesy after,” Jeyne said, rolling her eyes slightly. She picked up something she had been stitching and began working again. “At times, he and his father mortify me.” Despite her words, Deirdre could see the genuine affection she had for both of them.

 

“Liar.” Deirdre couldn’t restrain her laughter. “You enjoy the fact he horrifies your mother too much to be too mortified by his behavior. I heard what happened last night.” Apparently, Lady Westerling had offended Smalljon at supper with Ser Edmure and Ser Brynden last night. Smalljon had taken Jeyne’s hand and rose to leave. When her mother had asked where he thought he was going, he told her they planned to spend the rest of the night creating an heir.

 

Jeyne’s cheeks flared red. “How did you hear so quickly?”

 

“Edmure told Robb in front of me,” Deirdre smiled slightly before growing thoughtful again. “At least, it made Robb smile. There have been too few of those lately.”

 

“Has he still not recovered?” Jeyne asked, concern filling her eyes. “I would have thought his wounds would have all but healed by now.”

 

“It’s not his wounds. He’s still suffering from heartache. Losing his brothers and then having the Karstarks betray him so soon after; he struggles with it.”

 

Robb had beheaded Lord Karstark the day they’d found Tion Frey and Willem Lannister murdered. As she had promised, Deirdre had stood watching her husband as he did his duty, biting her lip to prevent herself from crying out in protest. She knew he had to do what he’d done but the woman inside her felt that perhaps the penalty had been too severe and had been gruesome as well. Afterward, she’d been ill. Catelyn said later that she’d grow used to hearing of beheadings in the north, but hopefully Deirdre would witness very few. Robb had spent the remainder of the day in the Godswood. She’d attempted to get him to join her for supper, but he’d refused to eat. That night he’d tossed and turned in bed so much, neither of them slept much. Eventually she’d taken him in her mouth, attempting to distract his mind with his body’s desire. It had worked for awhile and then he slept for a few hours. But he never slept much.

 

The following week had been filled with similar behavior. She attempted to comfort him at night when he’d come to bed with the weight of his kingdom crushing down on them both. His face was drawn and he had dark circles under his eyes. Plus he barely ate or slept as he and his men poured over maps and scouting reports. He’d also sent letters and ravens out, including one to Lord Frey. Robb needed the alliance back if he intended to return north. Right now, they were trapped between the Lannisters in the south and the Ironborn in the north with no way to go home. _Home_. There was little home left to them with Bran and Rickon dead. Robb’s sadness was shared by her and she took comfort only in the fact that their child would soon be born.

 

“He’s a good king that cares so much for his people, even those that betrayed him,” Jeyne said quietly. “I doubt Joffrey suffered any guilt when he took Lord Stark’s head. But I was surprised that His Grace did it himself instead of using a headsman.”

 

“It is the way of the north. Lord Stark taught his sons the old way, that the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword,” Deirdre replied, a shiver running through her. Changing the subject to another difficult but less bloody one, she said, “I suppose Smalljon has told you that Robb must make peace with the Freys.”

 

Pain crossed Jeyne’s face and she nodded. “I know and I understand, of course. I wasn’t even one of King Robb’s subjects when it happened so it makes no sense for him to lose a powerful ally…”

 

“Jeyne, that’s not it,” Deirdre interrupted. “It has nothing to do with who your family’s loyalty. This is the only way the Northmen can return north. If Black Walder were still one of his subjects, he could punish him: force him to take the black or something. But now, he can’t. He also has to ignore the fact that we know Black Walder wanted me killed. Since he didn’t attempt anything, Robb cannot assume that he would have hurt me.”

 

Jeyne was silent for a moment before she nodded. Deirdre felt awful about the Frey business. She knew her uncle had told the truth and Black Walder wanted her dead but he didn’t actually _do_ anything to harm her. He, on the other hand, _had_ raped Jeyne. Nothing could take that horror away from her, especially so soon after.

 

 This conversation was entirely too somber and it was not making neither of them feel better so Deirdre asked lightly, “How are you enjoying your new marriage?” Where before Smalljon always seemed to be at Robb’s side except when Robb and Deirdre were alone, he had scarcely been around since his marriage. His father laughingly mused that he was totally besotted with his little wife.

 

A pink flush crept up Jeyne’s cheeks as she said, “He’s wonderful to me. Despite his size and manners, he’s very gentle. And he’s been patient with me about…you know…” Her pink cheeks blazed bright red now. “The first couple of nights he just held me. I thought perhaps he didn’t want me since I was ruined but when he caught me crying about it, he explained he didn’t want to rush me so soon after what happened.”

 

Deirdre smiled, thinking back to her wedding night. Robb had also offered to be patient because of her love for Jon yet they ended up making love because they both wanted it. She’d never been able to resist her husband. “Smalljon is a kind and honorable man. Your mother might not like him, but it’s unlikely any man from the Crag to the Wall would treat you more gently.”

 

“He makes me smile. The first night I watched over your husband, I saw the genuine affection he felt for his king. Then we talked about many things throughout most of the night. I knew he was different from most soldiers. But when I saw how gentle he was with you and how concerned he was about your well-being, I knew he was not merely trying to impress me. I know his manners are ghastly and he’s outspoken when he shouldn’t be. Mother says he’s a fool and a heathen but he’s _not_ ,” Jeyne exclaimed with frustration and a flash of anger. “He’s very clever, but he doesn’t speak up all the time. He prefers to listen to every viewpoint and then make a judgment before speaking. Usually his father has spoken by that time. Lord Umber is very rash and vocal while my Jon is introspective, not stupid.”

 

“Robb relies on him for his opinion. Both of the Umbers are close to us both as friends and allies. Excuse me for saying so and I know it’s wrong of me to speak ill of your family…”

 

“Feel free,” Jeyne said with a smile.

 

“Your mother is a bit of a prig. She thinks because the Northmen don’t put large importance on courtly manners, expensive finery, or such things, they’re heathens. The Northmen have to survive a harsh environment year-round. Their focus is on feeding their people through the winter and making certain they are protected from Wildlings. They scarcely have time to worry about titles and putting on airs. I was there in the summer and it was snowing. Robb remembers times when it would snow as high as his father’s shoulder for months at a time. And the Umbers live even further north,” she glanced up and saw Jeyne looked concerned. “Don’t worry. I’ve heard Last Hearth is a stout keep and you’ll have plenty of time to adjust to the north before Jon becomes the Lord of House Umber. The Greatjon is going to outlive Walder Frey I suspect. One thing I know you’ll love about the Northerners is the honesty of the people. It was such a shock to me from how I grew up.”

 

“I do like the Northmen. And you’re right about my mother. She’s very critical of Jon and it makes me so frustrated and angry. You would think she would want my happiness more than anything else but that’s not the case. You weren’t very close to your family either, were you?” Jeyne asked cautiously.

 

“Some of them but I never was close to Tywin’s children growing up because they lived in King’s Landing when I moved to Casterly Rock. When I went to King’s Landing, I became very close to Cersei’s younger children and Tyrion. Even Ser Jaime was kind to me,” she admitted. “It’s hard to imagine but I think he actually cares about me in some manner, or he once did. My family is so hard to explain. Even my own mother…” she trailed off, unwilling to talk about her.  Any talk of her family made her feel strangely so she avoided it usually. “At least I was able to see my uncle before they exchanged hostages for him. Some day if this war ever ends and we both survive it, perhaps I will see him again but if not, I know his feelings for me.”

 

“Clearly the king adores you. You can tell by the way he looks at you. Even if he’s stern or serious, his eyes soften when he glances in your direction. You seem to calm him. I’m envious. I hope that someday Jon looks at me that way,” Jeyne admitted with smile.

 

“Someday? He already does. You don’t know it because you didn’t know him before but you’ve tamed the beast that was Smalljon Umber,” Deirdre exclaimed with a laugh. “How you managed to ensnare him so quickly is a great topic of speculation.”

 

Jeyne laughed despite her blush. After their chuckle subsided, she asked, “Will we go north with them or stay here when they cross The Twins?”

 

“I don’t know how much I can say about their plans and I never know them all but I think Jon intends to send you to Seagard before Edmure’s wedding so you don’t have to see Black Walder. After the wedding, Robb and I will go somewhere until the baby is born. Then Lady Stark will return to Seagard after the baby is born and remain there with you. I don’t know about myself and the baby but I don’t think Robb wants me and his mother to be in the same place for our safety. Everything depends on Moat Cailin being secured. It’s really the only way for a large army to cross into the north safely.”

 

“Are you excited about the baby?” she asked.

 

“I cannot wait to meet this little one.” Deirdre rubbed her stomach. “But I’m terrified that something will go wrong.”

 

“It will be well. Your family deserves some happiness and I just know that things will be perfect.”

 

x-x-x

 

Deirdre studied the two Freys sent to them as envoys. One of them was actually a bastard named Walder Rivers and the other a crippled man name Lothar, or ‘Lame Lothar’ behind his back. They had appeared so soon after Lord Hoster Tully’s death that Lord Edmure had exploded in a rage. While Robb and Ser Brynden were speaking with them and making accommodations for their stay, Lady Catelyn attempted to calm her brother before she too withdrew in silence. Deirdre could see the pain of her father’s passing was of greater import to her than her brother’s anger so Deirdre kept close to Edmure, soothing him as much as she could. At least, he tended to listen to her. With Lady Stark he tended to act like the little brother he was and be irrational and petty. With Deirdre, many years his junior, he calmed with a few soothing words and sympathetic gestures.

 

The Frey alliance wasn’t an option at this point, it was a necessity. For that reason, Smalljon Umber and Jeyne had remained out of sight until the funeral and even then, they were with the men of House Umber, far away from the Freys.

 

Deirdre watched in silence from the battlements with Lady Stark, Lord Edmure, and Ser Brynden as Robb helped the other six men guide the funeral boat out into the river. She was moved by the touching farewell even if she had only met Lord Tully twice and both times he was so unaware of his surrounding, he didn’t know who Robb was, much less who she was. He kept confusing Robb and Edmure since Robb was similar to coloring and build when he had been Robb’s age. And Deirdre was pretty sure that he thought she was one of the servants if he even acknowledged her presence.

 

In a selfish way, she was glad that Robb had not been close to his grandfather. She didn’t think he could handle another loss. But then she’d feel guilty because Lady Stark had lost more than anyone should. Her good-mother rarely spoke to her anymore or anyone else for that matter except perhaps Ser Brynden. Occasionally, she’d politely ask about Deirdre’s health or the baby, but Catelyn had withdrawn from everyone and, unlike Robb, Deirdre didn’t know ways to draw her out. The only smile Deirdre had seen from Lady Stark since before she released Jaime had been when Robb told her that their baby would be named Brandon.

 

She wished she could heal the growing distance between her husband and his mother. They both felt so guilty for their part in events that lead them to this place: Robb for trusting Theon, Catelyn for setting Jaime free. Neither one truly seemed to blame the other anymore, but the gulf between them still grew. She’d tried talking to Robb about it and he had acted dismissively about it, and then changed the subject.

 

After the funeral, she suggested that Robb speak to his mother alone but first he wanted to talk to Deirdre privately. He asked his mother to wait for a moment while he took Deirdre to the Godswood.

 

“What is it?” she asked, laying her hand on his arm. He looked beyond miserable.

 

“I had a raven this morning and I don’t know how to tell Mother…” he trailed off and her heart pounded with fear. Before she could ask, he said, “They married Sansa to Tyrion.”

 

After a moment of stunned silence, she said, “Robb, I know this is not _good_ news and you didn’t want your sister married to a Lannister but there are worse fates that Tyrion. At least, it’s not Joffrey or Tywin. Don’t forget, Tywin had once thought to marry me to create another heir rather than Tyrion. He could easily have married Sansa despite her age.”

 

“I don’t want my sister married to _any_ Lannister,” he ground out and her eyes widened slightly. She knew he didn’t mean it as an insult to her but his tone had been harsher than she’d expected.

 

“Robb, one thing you need to do is calm down. Telling your mother this news when she’s just lost her father is going to be hard enough for her to hear. If you use that tone of voice with her, it would be a slap in the face,” she replied as calmly as she could. “At least, Tyrion won’t hurt Sansa. I can’t say I feel the same faith in anyone else in my family.”

 

“If anything happens to me and you, Sansa is my heir. The Lannisters would gain Winterfell and the north.”

 

She shook her head. Tywin as usual had caught them in a trap but what upset her most was that Robb seemed more concerned about Winterfell than the fact it would take his death, her death and their child’s death for Tywin to gain _anything_. Surely, Robb had not reached the point where he cared more about a castle and the north then their family.

 

“Perhaps you should wait to tell your mother anything until you realize what’s wrong with what you just said to me,” she replied shortly. When he studied her in confusion, she said, “Sansa is your heir if you and I _and our child_ die. Forgive me if I care less about Winterfell and the North than I do if I were to lose you and our child.”

 

A flash of anger crossed his eyes before he turned away for a few moments. His shoulders sagged and he said quietly. “Deirdre, you know what I meant. I am your husband and my family is important to me but I am also a king. I have a responsibility to my people.”

 

Coming up behind him, she reached up and ran her hands along his neck and shoulders, attempting to massage some of the tension out. “I married Robb Stark, not the King in the North. I understand you must take care of your people but do you remember why this war began?”

 

He turned his head slightly. “I wanted to rescue my father and sisters.”

 

“This war began because of your love for your family,” she said. Coming to stand before him, she stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him lightly. “Don’t forget that what you’re fighting for.” He nodded slightly and he looked so weary, it hurt her heart. But there was nothing more she could do for him.

  
She left the Godswood and Lady Stark came to speak with Robb. Deirdre hoped Robb was gentle with her. Catelyn seemed so fragile right now. Deirdre felt eyes on her and noticed Walder Rivers and Lame Lothar watching her. The yard was still full of Northmen and Lord Tully’s men plus her guards were barely a shout away but she felt uneasiness none-the-less. Lothar smiled at her with a nod of his head. He seemed to be very friendly and she hoped he was more like Olyvar than Black Walder but she felt better when Dacey and Ned walked her way.

 

“Is all well?” Dacey asked and Deirdre nodded. She’d felt like such a fraud lately because she rarely spoke the truth when asked if things were well. She didn’t want to let anyone know how Robb was truly struggling lately with his anger and pain or about the strain of things with Lady Stark. Or even how most of the time Deirdre felt like everything was slipping away from them.

 

When she came south with Robb, she had no doubts in him or his cause. But over time, this war had become pointless. With Lord Stark, Bran, and Rickon gone and now with Sansa married, she wasn’t sure what they were fighting for anymore.  She honestly didn’t believe Arya was still in King’s Landing. Robb didn’t want the Iron Throne for himself so all this effort had been for nothing. If they beat the Lannisters, would Robb take the throne? Deirdre knew Robb would never stop as long as Joffrey sat the throne, but she had begun to feel like the cost was too high now. She wanted her child born and raised in the north. The only way that could happen was if they went home which was his intention if they achieved an alliance with the Freys again. But after they regained Winterfell and the North from the Ironborn, what was next? Would Robb just hope that her family and Joffrey forgot that he openly rebelled and let him live in peace? Or would Robb just go home to prepare for a repeat of this whole affair? If that was true, she didn’t know if she could stand it once again. She wanted peace even if it meant subjecting themselves to bowing to Joffrey. But she could not ask Robb to do that. Joffrey had killed Ned Stark and that crime must be punished. The question remained though: what price was too high for Robb to realize he’d had enough?

 

Ned Stark wouldn’t want everyone to sacrifice so much to avenge him.

 

x-x-x

 

Deirdre was preparing for supper when Robb came to their chambers. She could see by his face that his day had not gotten easier. After her handmaidens were finished with her hair, she excused them. Robb sat on the bed staring into space when she walked over to him.

 

“She wants me to bend the knee,” he said quietly, not glancing at her. “Bend the knee to the boy that killed my father.”

 

Deirdre saw how betrayed he felt that Catelyn had suggested it and felt guilty for her earlier thoughts of the same thing. She didn’t know how to answer him. Admit her thoughts had been the same and make him feel further betrayed or comfort him with false words?

 

“She worries for you,” she said quietly. “As do I. With all that she’s lost, she doesn’t want to lose anymore. I understand…I fear losing you as well.”

 

His gaze flickered to hers for a moment then he sighed, looking away. “You agree with her.”

 

“I want my husband and child safe. I want your men to go home. I don’t know what else to say other than the truth. I don’t know how this will end and it frightens me. You’ve lost so much but you’re still alive. If you defeat the Ironborn, what will happen with Joffrey and the Lannisters?” she asked, sitting down and taking his hand. “I just want you safe Robb and our child. That’s more important to me that anything.”

 

“They killed my father…” he began, glaring at her.

 

“And avenging him won’t bring him back. Robb, I will stand by any decision you make and I trust you to make the right one but as you consider it, remember, nothing will bring Lord Stark back. And he wouldn’t want you to sacrifice your own life to avenge his. You know he wouldn’t want this,” she exclaimed. Reaching up, she cupped his cheek and he watched her with miserable eyes. “You can’t bring him back. You can’t bring back Bran and Rickon. As much as it hurts, I need you to know that you realize nothing will bring back what you’ve lost. Is it worth it to lose more?”

 

He thought for a moment before he said, “I believe in justice and honor. If I allow Joffrey to go unpunished then I will betray all my beliefs. But the Lannisters aren’t my concern now. I must win back the north and then perhaps I will know the answer.”

 

“I hope so. But whatever you decide, I will always be by your side,” she promised and wrapped her arms around him. “I just don’t want to lose you.”

 

He held her for a few moments then sighed again. “The Freys requested your presence when we discuss the terms of our arrangement. I know it’s a lot to ask…”

 

“I said I’d be by your side. I can manage to suffer the Freys,” she said with a smile. “Let’s go to supper now before people begin to wonder if we’ve run off together.”

 

x-x-x

 

After the feast had been cleared away, everyone had left the hall except the two Freys envoys, Robb, Deirdre, Lady Stark, Ser Brynden, Lord Edmure, and a handful of bannermen from the RIverlands and the North. Deirdre hadn’t wished to stay honestly, but it had been requested by the Freys.

 

“Our lord father wishes to settle the matter between our houses, Your Grace.  It would be a great honor for the marriage alliance between Lord Tully and his daughter by Bethany Rosby, Roslin Frey. However, we request that the marriage take place before you march north rather than waiting for another pact to be broken,” Lothar spoke graciously.

 

“And how did I break our pact? I agreed to marry his daughter if my wife was not with child within a year. As you see, she’s heavy with child and it has not yet been a year. Our conflict at the Crag had nothing to do with the agreement I made, nor did I break it,” Robb replied, his voice firm but calm.

 

“Your Grace, you took the word of Lannister soldiers and bannermen over our brother in the matter of the queen’s safety. No one in House Frey wishes ill to befall your queen or your heir. We rejoice in the fact that soon there will be a prince to carry on the Stark name,” Lothar said. “Of course, our lord father wished to be grandfather to a future king, but that does not mean he would plan such treachery against your queen. He wants an apology face-to-face from you, Your Grace, for this slight.”

 

Robb’s hand tightened on hers as he held back from possibly jumping over the table and throttling the man. Lord Umber, enraged, opened his mouth to speak and Robb quickly said, “As Lord Frey has conditions, so do I.” Deirdre noticed that Catelyn tensed quickly, obviously unaware of Robb’s conditions or she didn’t approve of them. “If he expects an apology from me, he must see that Black Walder is not in attendance of this wedding, nor is he to have any contact with myself, my wife, or Jon Umber and his wife, Jeyne Westerling. I’m assuming you recall that your brother raped an innocent girl at the Crag.”

 

Walder Rivers blurted out, “According to her! That is not…”

 

When Lord Umber, jumped to his feet, Lothar quickly interrupted while grasping his brother’s arm. “My brother is a soldier, not a diplomat. He speaks without thinking. Forgive him.” After a few moments, Lord Umber regained his seat and Lothar continued, “The incident at the Crag with one of the Westerling girls was unfortunate, but Black Walder has assured me that was just a misunderstanding. But my brother’s moods and temper often lead him to do and say things he should not. I do not doubt that it’s possible that he has done this and my lord father has already requested that Black Walder not have any dealings with Your Grace or your people. He will be sent to another holdfast until your departure from the Twins.”

 

“By his denial, he is continuing to call Lady Jeyne a liar,” Deirdre pointed out. “That’s not an apology, that’s an accusation, yet your father wishes Robb to apologize for believing what you refer to as ‘lies’ about Black Walder. Is that hardly fair?”

 

Lothar was quiet for a moment before saying, “Perhaps not in your mind, my queen, but my father does not need this alliance. He is providing His Grace an opportunity to put the conflict to rest and align with him once again.”

 

“And if the king chooses not to agree to his terms? Will he then bend the knee to the Lannisters?” Deirdre asked, curiously. “It seems to me that Lord Frey needs this alliance as well for Tywin Lannister does not suffer traitors and would not make peace with the Freys. And unless I’m mistaken, Lord Tully is still his liege lord.”

 

“Not according to King Joffrey,” Walder Rivers pointed out. “Lord Baelish has been named Lord of Harrenhal and Lord Paramount of the Trident.”

 

Deirdre had not known that and realized by looking at the other faces at the table, neither had anyone else. There was a long uncomfortable silence before anyone said anything and saw a hint of gloating in Walder River’s eyes when he watched her. Edmure appeared on the verge of another outburst so she put her hand on Robb’s arm. When he turned her way, she gestured to his uncle and he nodded. Quickly he said, “If I apologize and Lord Edmure marries Lady Roslin, what is your lord father willing to commit to our cause?”

 

“He’ll commit the same number of men that he did before until you drive the Ironborn out of the north. And he’ll allow you to cross the Twins with your men to march north again. Once the north is secure, you will need to discuss with him the future alliance if you intend to wage war on the Lannisters again. It is a different matter for him to commit men to take King’s Landing than it was to fight the Lannisters in the field and he will need to consider what is best for our house at that time based on the losses we take in the north,” Lothar replied.

 

“When will I meet Lady Roslin?” Edmure asked sullenly.

 

“At the wedding of course,” Lothar answered. “Which will take place soon.”

 

“Wouldn’t it make more sense if I meet her beforehand to see if we are a good match?”

 

“Roslin understands what she must do and _she_ will do her duty. There is no need to meet unless you wish to count her teeth? Our lord father expects us to return with your men or the offer is withdrawn,” Walder Rivers said shortly. “Lord Baelish is unmarried. Perhaps our interests would be better served…”

 

“Please excuse us sers, so we may discuss this,” Lady Stark interrupted with a stern look to her brother.

 

“Of course,” Lothar said, rising to his feet. “I do hope that we can set these matters to rest soon, Your Grace.”

 

“As do I,” Robb answered.

 

Lothar remained for a moment before saying, “There is another matter that you need to know but I did not wish to burden you with such ill-tidings on the day Lord Tully was laid to rest.”

 

“What is it?” Lady Stark asked, her face pale and drawn.

 

“Our lord father had tidings from his grandsons that were your wards in Winterfell. The battle to reclaim Winterfell was lost and when Theon Greyjoy knew he was defeated, he put the castle to the torch and the Ironborn slaughtered the people. Some of the women and children hid in the Godswood and were taken to safety by Roose Bolton’s bastard son,” Lothar said.

 

“We’ve heard nothing of this battle,” Ser Brynden argued at the same time Lady Stark said, “All of our people slain?”

 

“There is much confusion but two facts are clear, Winterfell has been burned and only a few women and children were rescued. They’re at the Dreadfort,” Lothar explained. “Forgive me, Your Grace, for bearing such grievous news.”

 

Robb said nothing but nodded and turned away from them. Lothar and Walder Rivers departed and the Northmen and Riverlords all began speaking at once about Ramsey Snow, Theon Greyjoy, Walder Frey, and Winterfell. Edmure was lamenting that Walder Frey wouldn’t allow him chose his bride as he had said Robb could. Deirdre was too numb to feel much of anything at this point. They had no home to go to, nothing left in the North. She remembered Robb’s words at the Crag, _“Winterfell has been held by the Starks for eight thousand years. It has never been conquered. And I lost it in less than a year.”_ Turning to him she saw that he was still in shock. Perhaps that was a blessing right now: to not feel anything because he’d surely feel the pain and rage eventually.

 

Lady Stark was arguing with her brother. “Edmure, Olyvar Frey has spoken of his sister Roslin a few times and she is supposed to be sweet-natured and kind. I do not like this anymore than you do, but we must accept if we wish to…”

 

“Why must I be the one? I don’t see you offering to marry Lord Frey or one of his sons,” Edmure shot back.

 

“Edmure…surely you cannot expect your sister to marry so soon after her husband’s death,” Deirdre admonished. He was acting like a spoilt child now. She understood it was rather an unpleasant business but she’d been forced to marry both times and the first time had been to a horrible man many years her senior, yet she handled it with more grace and dignity than Lord Tully was showing now.

 

**//** The Blackfish said, “I am the last man in the Seven Kingdoms to tell anyone who they must wed, Nephew. Nonetheless, you did say something of making amends for your Battle of the Fords.”

 

“I had in mind a different sort of amends. Single combat with the Kingslayer. Seven years of penance as a begging brother. Swimming the sunset sea with my legs tied.” When he saw that no one was smiling, Edmure threw up his hands. “The Others take you all! Very well, I’ll wed the wench. As amends.” **\\\**

 

“Good. Ser Brynden please inform the Freys,” Robb said, suddenly rising and taking her hand to help her stand. “Pray excuse us. We will see you on the morrow.”  She looked in his eyes and saw that the shock about Winterfell was wearing off and Robb was excusing them so he could refrain from hiding his feelings any longer. Tucking her arm into his, she walked with him to their room.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> //quotes from A Storm of Swords text\\\


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

 

_A/N Thank you to CalliopeGalaxy for the beta!_ _Thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback!_

**Chapter 6**

 

Robb watched Deirdre’s handmaiden taking her hair down in silence. His wife’s beauty often made him speechless, especially in her unguarded moments. She had become so self-conscious about her size, swollen with his child as she was, but he thought the babe gave her a glow that was not dimmed by the hardships they had endured. She was full of life and it gave him a sense of peace in the madness of his life.

 

Too often lately he’d leaned on her for strength and yet despite the extra burdens she carried, she never faltered. She kept her grief for his brothers to herself so as to not upset him further and mourned her young cousins that had been murdered by Lord Karstark’s men in silence as well. She had taken Karstark’s betrayal of Robb personally yet she had not wished for Lord Karstark’s death. Robb knew if he had asked, she would have asked for mercy for him. Her heart was gentle, perhaps too gentle for this war.

 

Who had he become that he relied on his wife for all his strength? Their marriage had been an alliance from the beginning, where they mutually supported each other, but now he demanded more and more from her and gave her less. She was always pushed aside for the demands of his kingdom and his kingdom got all of his strength. He’d gone to war to protect his family, as she had reminded him earlier today. But he’s abandoning his only family members that remained to him. His brothers had died while he avenged their father. Robb could never bring them back anymore than he could bring back his father. But he pushed his mother aside and only burdened Deirdre with more and more woe.

 

The handmaiden left and Deirdre rose to come to bed. “Forgive me,” he said as he stood and came before her. “Forgive me for forgetting the purpose of this war. I have acted more like a child than a king.”

 

“You’re mourning your brothers,” she answered gently. “I know you needed my understanding and patience.”

 

“Too much,” he admitted. “I’ve leaned on you too much and grew comfortable in allowing it to continue. I let you bear the burden of all my troubles, yet I gave you little in return. I haven’t been much of a husband to you lately.”

 

She smiled and let him take her in his arms, snuggling into his embrace. “I knew you’d return to yourself again. Things _have_ been so difficult for you recently.”

 

“I have a hard time remembering times when they weren’t difficult,” he admitted. “When Father still lived, I suppose. But even then, everything seemed to have all changed when Bran fell.”

 

She was quiet and he remembered that she’d been the one that found Bran after spending the day with Jon. And that night she’d comforted Jon. Did she think of Jon now? Certainly things would have been easier for her if she had married him, even though he was a bastard, rather than a king. Robb had the responsibilities of the North on him and if she’d been free to follow her heart from the start, Jon could have been a better husband to her without his loyalty being divided between his duties as Lord of Winterfell and his duties to her. If she had married Jon, Jon would have marched off to war with Robb rather than the Wall. Jon would be here now and perhaps Bran and Rickon would still be alive. But Deirdre would never be Robb’s wife and he wasn’t sure he could bear that thought.

 

“I wish Father had said no to Robert,” he admitted. “But then I certainly wouldn’t have you as my wife.”

 

“Perhaps not, but you’d still have your family,” she replied, her voice soft and thoughtful. “I think it would have made you happier. You could have married a woman of the north… No one marries into the Lannister family without paying the price it seems.”

 

He stepped back, raising his hands to cup her face. “I do not regret marrying you. This war has nothing to do with our marriage. It began when Jaime pushed Bran out of a window and Joffrey cut off my Father’s head. You are not to blame for any of that, no matter what your name is or your family.”

 

Deirdre watched him in silence for a moment before biting her lip and nodding. She’s holding something back from him, he could feel it. “What is it?” She shook her head and averted her eyes until he repeated himself.

 

Finally, she took a deep breath and quickly said, “When you regain the north, I want you to think about making peace with my family. Now that Sansa is married to Tyrion, they’ll be Lord and Lady of Casterly Rock when Tywin dies. If the battle for the north takes a long time to settle, then the winter will be upon us and you know Tywin is not foolish enough to march into the North in the middle of winter. Winter could last years. Perhaps by the end of it, he’ll be dead. Your mother already freed Jaime so Tywin will have less reason to fight. Perhaps when spring comes, so might peace. I know I can work with Tyrion towards peace.” She said everything in a rush as if she expected him to explode into a rage and interrupt her if she didn’t get it all out at once.

 

Robb felt cold and empty inside when he thought of peace with the Lannisters, but he knew that she and his mother both spoke sense when they said Father would not wish him to lose everything to avenge him. He nodded. “When the North is reclaimed, I will _consider_ peace but I can make no promises to you now. Perhaps in the winter, my anger and burning desire for vengeance and justice will cool but now I cannot agree to allow Joffrey to survive and continue to rule. He killed my father. I know that what you say is true, Father would not wish any more bloodshed for him but if I give up now and Joffrey not only gets away with Father’s murder, but everything we’ve suffered in the last months, including Rickon and Bran’s deaths, will be in vain.”

 

“I love you,” she whispered. “I want many more years with you and our child. I want to see both of us grow old in Winterfell with visits from Smalljon and Jeyne, the Greatjon, Lady Mormont, Ned, Dacey and her sisters, and all of our friends and their children. I want to see your mother holding her grandchildren and their children. I want to see Jon and perhaps Sansa again if we make peace. One day maybe even Arya will be found and returned to us at last. You told me you wanted to fill Winterfell’s halls with children. We cannot do that if you’re always at war.”

 

“We don’t have Winterfell anymore…”

 

“It can be rebuilt. It will never be the same, I know, but it can be rebuilt and it can be ours. Perhaps the ghosts of those you’ve lost will not haunt it once when it’s rebuilt. As hard as this is, as painful as it might be, this could be a way to start anew and put all of this heartache behind us. I think Bran, Rickon, and your father would want that. I think they’d want you to be happy again. And you can’t be happy as long as you’re waging a war. Robb, when was the last time you laughed?”

 

Her words spoke to the man he once was. Before he was king, before he was filled with vengeance. He did not know if the king he’d become could ever agree to what she proposed, but for the first time in a long time, he felt something other than anger, loss, and remorse. He felt hope and longing and a sense of purpose again. He wanted to see Jon and Sansa again as well. They were the only siblings he had left to him now. Perhaps, by now, Uncle Benjen had been found. He wanted to listen to his mother singing the songs to his children that she’d sang to him. Pulling Deirdre back into his arms, he held her tightly, trying to imagine a time when they could have the marriage his parents had.

 

“Once the ironborn are defeated, I will fortify Moat Cailin to prevent the Lannisters marching north during winter. And when winter is over, I will _consider_ a treaty with them. I will _not_ _bow_ to Joffrey though,” he finally said. “I cannot.”

 

“I know,” she whispered softly. “I wouldn’t expect you to but perhaps Stannis will resolve that problem for us or…who knows? A lot can happen in between now and when winter ends. All of the older men swear that this winter will be long. Maybe Joffrey will do us the honor of dying before it ends.”

 

Robb laughed and kissed her. “That would be a great honor.” He kissed her again moving his hands to caress her belly. “And hopefully we can raise this one in Winterfell. If not this one, then perhaps his younger brothers or sisters will be raised there. I do not care if it takes two years or twenty. I want Winterfell back. I want there to be a Stark in Winterfell again.”

 

“Right now I just want the Starks that still live to remain that way,” she said with a sigh. “And this one to be born. I’m ready to meet this little one who kicks me all the time and brings such strange dreams to me each night.” She looked back at him and said, “Robb, you must stop distancing yourself from Grey Wind as well. What happened at the Crag wasn’t his fault, nor was it yours, but he’s as much a part of you as you are of him. I know you still visit him but he needs to be with us again. You need to see that he won’t hurt me and he never intended to.”

 

“I know,” Robb admitted. He’d spent time with Grey Wind but not nearly enough.  He sensed how forlorn the wolf was becoming being separated from him. “I’ll bring him in to sleep in here at night and have him around me more during the day, like he once was. If I am a warg, it’s not fair to punish him for it.”

 

“Nor yourself. I talked to Lady Mormont about wargs,” she began and he gave her a shocked look. “Don’t worry, I didn’t mention why I was asking and I threw it with questions about White Walkers, giants, and the Long Night. She said that wargs were both feared and respected in the north. But they aren’t evil in her mind. She’s heard of it and believes what she’s heard. One thing she did tell me is that if Grey Wind was killed while you inhabited his mind, it would be traumatic to you and if you were killed while warging, part of you would remain in Grey Wind.”

 

“I don’t plan to warg again at all if I can help it so that’s not a concern,” Robb replied. “But I will keep that in mind.”

 

“Why don’t you go get Grey Wind now?” she suggested. “I can wait up for you.”

 

Robb sighed. He had intended to spend the rest of the night making love to her, not paying attention to the wolf but perhaps she was right. “I will but I expect you to wait up, naked and in bed,” he commanded with a kiss. “The maester has said we should stop making love very soon so I don’t want to waste time. That is, if you’re up to it.”

 

“It’s such torture but I think I can manage,” she said, wrapping her arms around his neck and tilting her head back for a kiss. Robb indulged her, of course.

 

x-X-x

 

Robb sat with his mother the day before their departure to Edmure’s wedding. “I don’t want the Freys to know that Deirdre is remaining with me after we send Jeyne to Seagard. I will make excuses for her not being at the wedding due to her condition. Surely Lord Frey cannot fault me for that. I want you, Jeyne, and one of Deirdre’s handmaidens to ride in the two covered wayns we’ll be bringing. When Jeyne departs, she’ll take the handmaiden with her and you’ll ride with Deirdre so no one wonders why we have a covered wayn. Deirdre will not stay in the castle, but in the camp. I don’t trust the Freys.”

 

“I don’t know how you plan to hide it from the whole army, but if you think its best. Lord Frey will be insulted but as you said, in her condition I’m sure you can make excuses. Is Lord Mallister aware of what threat might occur if your enemies think she’s in Seagard?” Catelyn asked, her brow wrinkling in concern.

 

“Yes and some of the Umber men will be going along with Jeyne anyway so he’ll have additional forces in any case. After the wedding, we’ll let the information leak that she is not in Seagard and alleviate some of the added danger to the Mallisters.” Robb tapped the map he’d been looking at for the past few hours before his mother had joined him. He should have every stream or hill in the area between here and Winterfell committed to memory now; he’d looked at it so many times and for so long.

 

“And after the wedding, where will you go? Where will Deirdre remain with your child while you fight for Moat Cailin?” Catelyn asked, glancing at the map.

 

“The only place I feel is truly safe right now: Greywater Watch. The Reeds will help lead our men through the marshes so we can get north of Moat Cailin. I’ve already sent a few men ahead to let Lord Reed know of our approach. Gallbert Glover and Maege Mormont will leave when Jeyne does to sail to Greywater Watch ahead of us. Lord Umber, Lord Glover, and Lady Mormont will assure that the men needed have crossed into the north and Lord Bolton will lead the other men from the South when its time. I’ll regroup with them after our child is born. And you’ll return to Seagard.”

 

“You’re sending me back to Seagard? Why can I not remain with Deirdre and my grandchild? Or if you insist on sending me away, can I not return to Riverrun?” she asked sharply.

 

Robb reached out and took her hands in his own. “I cannot spare the men to return you to Riverrun nor can I risk having you and my heir in the same place. If I should fall…”

 

“ _Robb_ …” she began and he shook his head.

 

“If I should fall, her guards will take her to the Wall. Jon will be freed from his vows and he will need to decide how best to retake Winterfell.”

 

“You mean for your bastard brother to rule in your place?” His mother’s look of betrayal and hurt cut him to the quick but he knew he had to tell her the truth.

 

“Mother, he’s my _half brother_ and the only brother I have left to me now. If I were to die, Deirdre’s and my child’s lives will be in huge peril. I know my men will be loyal to her and try to protect them but I cannot leave their care in the hands of one of my bannermen. The King in the North will be an infant. Deirdre’s own family would attempt to take her by force and either marry her off or throw her in a dungeon. Can you imagine if Tywin Lannister forced her to marry him or Jaime? No, it must be someone of my blood protecting her, someone who understands warfare as well as life in the north…who else could it be but Jon?” Robb said as calmly as he could. He should have told her this long ago when the decision was made, when he promised Deirdre he’d tell her. Now it seemed like he was punishing her for letting Jaime go.

 

“Jon is a _bastard_. No one will be loyal to him or follow him into battle, even if he is your half brother. And will he reign in Winterfell until your son comes of age? What if you have a daughter?” his mother’s eyes narrowed as she watched him. “If Jon Snow has power over your wife and child, he will rule the north. Surely you know this.”

 

“The northmen will follow him because he’s acting in my stead. He _needs_ to rule the north until my child is old enough. And he needs to teach my child how to rule. Any child of mine will inherit, not just a son. But you can’t expect Deirdre to rule when she has no knowledge of the north. And Jon won’t be a bastard any longer. I have legitimized him in my will.”

 

Catelyn said nothing as she rose and walked to the window to look outside. Silence stretched out for a long time before she finally said anything. “He will take your crown and Winterfell from your heir. You’re trusting him as foolishly as you trusted Theon Greyjoy.”

 

 Robb felt the sting of her rebuke but refused to rise to the bait. “Jon is not Theon Greyjoy. He is my lord father’s son and he was raised as such. You judge him because of the manner of his birth but that was never his fault. And Father raised us together. Jon was taught the same lessons I was. He has honor and goodness to him that Theon never had. He will honor my wishes, protect my wife and child, and rule well while teaching my heir until he or she is old enough. Jon will continue to look for Arya until he has exhausted his last hope. His being in Winterfell will prevent the Lannisters from attempting to take it using Sansa. I know you do not wish this…”

 

“From the very bottom of my heart, I know this is a mistake. Have you forgotten The Blackfyre Rebellion?”

 

“That is ancient history and Jon would never do that,” Robb exclaimed, in frustration but growing steadily towards anger. “I know your feelings for him but you’re not at all objective about it. Jon will do all that I need him to do. You are welcome to return to Winterfell when it’s reclaimed and I hope that you do, but Jon will be there to help Deirdre in ways you cannot. You need to accept that.”

 

“Most men would not _want_ another man to help his wife in some ways,” she retorted, angry. “You’ve made up your mind and nothing I say can change it I see. What does Deirdre think of this? How does she feel about a bastard ruling the North instead of herself?”

 

“She doesn’t want to rule, Mother. You obviously do not know her well if you think she does. She doesn’t enjoy being queen nor does she wish for power. She wants to be a mother and have her child live safely. I think if given the choice she’d wish for me to be a goat herder or a fisherman. But she accepts that Jon can provide those if the worst should happen.” He rubbed his temples trying to sooth his frayed nerves.  

 

Lately Deirdre had nightmares or wolf dreams each night. She’d woken him the night before last when she screamed out Jon’s name in terror, muttering about undead things in the dark, then sobbed for hours about sensing Bran. Other nights she’d woken from the wolf dreams feeling terrified that Robb was leaving her. Last night, the maester had given her dreamwine just so she’d sleep the whole night through. Robb had been having more wolf dreams as well. And a nightmare about being trapped in the Winterfell crypts. He had nightmares of his father telling him the mistakes he’d made and Theon murdering his sons, just like he had his brothers. It seemed like the worse his dreams were, the more terrifying Deirdre’s were. Now he was starting to wonder if something _had_ happened to Jon. But Deirdre said he was alive. Robb didn’t ask how she knew. He was counting on his brother to protect his child if he was killed. What if Jon died before him? What if he was dead now? Shaking his head, he forced that out of his mind. He couldn’t live with the thought that _all_ of his brothers were gone.

 

“Then there is nothing more I can say. If you will not allow me to go north with you, however, I wish to return to Riverrun with my brother and his new wife if he does not mind. Please consider this. I must finish my packing for our journey,” his mother answered before leaving the room.

 

Robb checked on the progress of the rest of his men and saw that everyone was almost prepared to depart. Edmure was sullen about his impending wedding but other than that, the rest of his company was ready to begin the march home at last. He talked to Ser Brynden for awhile and explained the situation with his mother and Jon, hoping her uncle could perhaps get her to see wisdom and if not, he could at least convince Edmure to bring Catelyn back to Riverrun after the wedding. Robb couldn’t help feeling that if his mother returned here, she’d never come back to Winterfell: a thought which filled him with deep sadness.

 

Coming into his room, he found it full of servant packing up the remains of their belongings. Jeyne sat in a chair near the bed where Deirdre lay.

 

“Is all well?” he asked with concern.

 

“The maester has decided that I don’t rest enough and has ordered me to rest a few minutes each hour,” Deirdre answered with annoyance. “I feel fine though so I wish he would stop clucking about like a mother hen.”

 

Robb’s gaze drifted to Jeyne and she nodded, confirming nothing was wrong. The two women had become very close in the last few weeks and Jeyne had become part of their small group of friends.

 

“Soon this will be you,” Deirdre said with a smirk. When Jeyne’s eyes widened and looked towards Robb, Deirdre blurted out, “I assumed Robb knew from Smalljon! Please, tell me Smalljon knows at least.”

 

“He does but he did not wish his father to find out until I was further along,” Jeyne admitted. “I honestly think he’s worried that it might jinx it to say aloud. I do not know if he has told His Grace.”

 

“He has not. I will act surprised when he does and the news will not come from me to the Greatjon. Congratulations, Lady Umber,” Robb answered with a smile.

  
“Robb, if she’s with child, it only makes sense for her to join us after the wedding. You wouldn’t want her to be alone in Seagard with no one she knows. Besides, it will do me good to have company when you ride back into battle. Otherwise I might go mad waiting for news,” Deirdre pleaded, reaching out her hand and clutching his sleeve. “Perhaps you and Smalljon could discuss it when you pretend to be surprised. It would make me very happy since you’re leaving me alone without even Dacey’s company.”

 

“You’ll have your guards.”

 

“All of them are _men_. Have you seen Ned’s eyes glaze over whenever I talk about anything to do with the baby? Adair is downright petrified of children, I suspect. He looks a little panic stricken when he hears me discuss the baby or their birth. I do like to torture him with discussions about birthing though. Apparently, he was the youngest of ten and has heard horror stories. Jeyne will be away from her mother, which granted is a blessing, so it’s only fair that you allow us this one concession,” she insisted.

 

Holding his hands up in surrender, Robb relented, “I will talk to Smalljon tomorrow. I cannot make any promises.”

 

“Speaking of Smalljon, I must finish our packing. We only have a few hours left before supper with my mother and uncle. I suspect then it’s an early night for us all.” Jeyne rose quickly and reached over and squeezed Deirdre’s hand. “I will see you in the morn. I hear we’re to share a covered wayn together.”

 

“The last time I shared a wayn, it was with Cersei, Tommen and Myrcella on our way to Winterfell. I suspect you’ll be better company.” Deirdre smiled as Jeyne left them.

 

“I promised Edmure, Ser Brynden and Mother we’d have one final supper together tonight before we depart. I’m going to miss Ser Brynden. I fear we might need him to keep Edmure from turning craven and running away from this wedding. He’s acting rather childish.” Robb shook his head. “Marq Piper told him that if she was that ugly he could just keep the room dark. I honestly think he should be more worried that her personality will be like Walter Frey’s.”

 

“Or Black Walder’s. Can you imagine a female version of either of them?” Deirdre snorted. “I’m very glad I got pregnant when I did or you’d be marrying a Frey as well. And who knows who Tywin would be attempting to marry me off to.”

 

Robb glanced at her in surprise. “Even if you hadn’t gotten pregnant, I wouldn’t have set aside our marriage. Walder Frey be damned. And if we had to, then I wouldn’t send you back to Tywin unless you wished me to. I’d keep you with me or if I had to, I’d marry you to someone I knew I could trust not to hurt you,” he said quietly. “Someone like Jon I suppose.”

 

She was silent for a moment before saying, “You sound doubtful again, Robb. I cannot help but wonder if it has something to do with Jon and the dreams I’ve been having…”

 

“No, it’s not the dreams. I finally told my mother about the will. She’s convinced that Jon will take advantage of the situation and prevent our child from ruling. She even compared me trusting Jon to me trusting Theon.”

 

“Jon loves you. Theon loved himself. I don’t like talking about your will, especially now. But your mother is wrong. Jon is _not_ Theon,” she answered angrily.

 

“That’s what I told her. Mother has lost so much. I think she feels if Jon is there then she’s lost my child as well,” Robb said, running his hands through his hair. “She’s panicked she’s going to lose me and the thought that if she does she could lose my son as well is too much for her.”

 

“Stop it please,” Deirdre said, sitting up and looking away. “Just one day, I’d like to not think about the threat of your death hanging over us.” She slid off the bed and went into the privy. Robb felt horrible, knowing he’d upset her again. With the dreams haunting her each night, she was living in constant fear for him and he’s only making it worse.

 

x-X-x

 

Robb’s hands drifted to her sides after he unlaced her gown. They’d just returned from a nice supper with his family and for once it seemed everyone was in a fair mood. Edmure charmed Deirdre, as he often did, and Ser Brynden kept him and his mother engaged in conversations about thinks other than the war or somber subjects. Robb hoped his uncle was able to charm his Frey bride as well and then he curbed his flirtatious nature. In the process of charming her, Edmure had given Deirdre more wine than normal and she was in a feisty mood.

 

“You should kneel before your queen,” she whispered, running her tongue around his ear as she pulled his doublet over his shoulders and down his arms.

 

Her gown fell to the floor in a puddle of fabric, leaving her only in a thin shift. She’d given up corsets months ago. Robb caressed her breasts with a smile. They were so much fuller and heavier than before, he could hardly resist. “I would say you should bow to me, my queen, but I fear you’d be unable to rise again,” Robb teased. “And since it is my fault that you are in this condition, I will bow as you command.”

 

Sinking to his knees, he pulled her shift up to her hips and pulled down her smallclothes. As soon as she stepped out of them, using his shoulder to maintain her balance, he gripped her hips and brought her close enough to kiss the inside of her legs. Lazily he dragged his tongue over her skin up to the apex of her thighs. Deirdre gasped aloud when he buried his tongue into her wet heat. He kissed and licked her until he had her trembling and clutching his hair tightly in her fists. The sounds of his sucking and her moans mingled together in the quiet room. Robb grew hard just tasting her but her obvious pleasure added to his arousal.

 

Standing up, he lifted her onto the bed, ripped her shift off and pulled one leg to his shoulder as he lowered his mouth to her again.  Deirdre writhed beneath him, calling out his name and attempting to find purchase with the bedding.

 

She moaned his name loudly as she reached her release, her hips rising off the bed towards his mouth. After she had ceased her trembling, he stood and removed the rest of his clothing as she watched with lust filled eyes. Robb wondered if anyone else noticed the way she looked at him, sometimes even in front of his men or across a room. Not as obvious as now of course but sometimes her gaze would make him feel hot and consumed with thoughts of making love to her. He hoped no one knew her looks as well as he did, nor his for her. If so, everyone would know the hunger between their king and queen. Perhaps she was his weakness in his enemies’ eyes. But she was his strength in truth. And her love for him had helped him survive this war and the loss of his family. Her love was stronger than the hatred of his enemies.

 

Robb lay beside her, turning her onto her side and pulling one leg to rest on his hip. He moaned as he entered her, fondling her breasts and kissing her neck at the same time. Due to her swollen belly, he had to be creative at times but he particularly liked this position. His hands could feel and tease her while his lips caressed her neck and shoulders. Deirdre had a weakness for hot kisses on her neck, even if he sometimes marked her with his teeth.

 

This would be the last time they could make love for awhile, possibly months, so Robb held back as much as he could. And when he finally succumbed to his climax, she lay in his arms only for a little while before she took him in her mouth. Afterwards he held her against him, enjoying feeling her silky soft skin and warmth against his naked body. She covered herself with the blanket but Robb was warm enough in her embrace to not need one.

 

“I love you,” she whispered with a kiss below his ear. “I wish this wasn’t the last time. Hopefully it was enough to last you for awhile. But if not, I can still give you pleasure in other ways.”

 

“I would not want you to do something for me that I could not do for you. The maester said if you were too stimulated it could cause the baby to come early so we shouldn’t risk it. I survived many years without this, I can survive a few months,” he answered with a smile then kissed her gently. “As long as I have your company, I will survive. I do not know how I’ll manage when I have to leave you in Greywater Watch.”

 

“Nor do I. It’s going to be horrible being apart. We haven’t been apart for more than a couple of days and nights since we married,” she said quietly. “Waking up alone will be the hardest. I enjoy seeing your face first thing, my love.”

 

Robb swallowed deeply, his throat tight with emotion. He knew it was selfish to have what his men did not but he enjoyed having her waiting for him at the end of a battle. He felt less alone in the world. Soon he’d have a wife and child, or children as he suspected that he’d be away from. It was hard enough to be away from his family and his home, now he was losing all that kept him grounded.

 

“We’ll make it through. I know we can,” he assured her even though he wondered if it would be harder for him than it was for her. She would have their child, a living breathing reminder of what the war was for, to reassure her when she had doubts. Robb would only have his memories to keep him focused. He hoped it would be enough.

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> __  
>  **I'm going to stress, once again, if you have not read the books and do not want to be spoiled about events that will take place in Game of Thrones Season 3 - STOP READING NOW. THIS CHAPTER AND AFTER CONTAINS SPOILERS.**   
> 

 

 

 

 

_A/N Thank you to[Auria](../../../users/Auria) for the beta! _ _Thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback!_

 

Chapter 7

 

It didn’t take long for Deirdre to tire of their journey. It had been raining since their departure from Riverrun and though she and Jeyne had kept each other’s spirits up for the first few days, they’d both started to feel the gloom of outside seep into their wayn. Deirdre felt horrible that Robb and his men had to march in this rain while she kept dry. By nightfall, her husband was drenched all the way to his small clothes. And the weather did nothing good for anyone’s moods.

 

Added to that, apparently Lady Stark had offended her brother and was now being given a wide berth by Lord Edmure and his companions. Furthermore, she had, once again, beseeched Robb to change his will and to reconsider allowing her to stay with Deirdre and their child. On the latter, Deirdre had spoken up on Catelyn’s behalf. She could use a mother figure with experience to help her with their child, as Deirdre had little knowledge of babies. Robb had finally agreed that his mother could remain with them until he departed Greywater Watch to meet with his men; Deirdre was certain she could convince him to allow Catelyn to stay longer if she needed her.

 

Catelyn had travelled with Deirdre and Jeyne for a few days after her argument with Edmure, hoping to lift her spirits. She spoke little, spending her days stitching tiny direwolves on a baby blanket. She had made three so far. One for a daughter and two suitable for sons, in case Robb was right about twins. The only subject Deirdre was able to get her good-mother to talk about with certainty was caring for children.

 

Deirdre would smile at her stories of Robb’s birth at Riverrun. She had labored with him for a day and a half. Sansa had been an easy birth and Catelyn had tears in her eyes when she talked of how Lord Stark had fawned over his daughter. The bells had rung from morning until night on the day Sansa was born. Rumors of her flawless skin and fiery hair had spread amongst the castle folk. Robb had walked around like a proud brother and begged his mother to let him hold her just once, with help. His fascination had continued until the next week, when Lord Stark had given him some extra time to make him forget his jealousy over the attention paid to his new sister. The bells had rung for Arya, Bran and Rickon as well.

 

“There will be no bells rung in Winterfell for your child and, if there were, only ghosts would hear them,” Catelyn said darkly, gazing out into the gloomy day.

 

Jeyne’s eyes filled with tears as she focused hard on her stitches. Deirdre was speechless. How could she truly regret not having bells rung for her child if she’d never known about them before? But now she did. She felt self-centered but she grew angry that her child would not be celebrated as he or she should be. Robb’s people would be scattered all over the place by then and it would only be Catelyn, Robb, and the Reeds with her, and she didn’t even know the Reeds. Her family would hear the news of her child and think of ways to use a Stark heir to their advantage. Robb’s father, sisters and brothers, the ones who would have celebrated if they had been there, were gone. It was unfair that her child would be brought into the world with very little fanfare despite the fact he would be a special child, a prince even.

 

As long as Robb is there, I need no other celebrations, she finally convinced herself. When Winterfell was rebuilt, they’d celebrate her son’s name days there, and the people could celebrate their prince’s life, once there was peace in the north at last.

 

“I don’t need bells as long as I have Robb with me,” she said aloud to Lady Stark. “And you’ll be there with us as well.”

 

“Of course, you’re right,” Lady Stark said, taken from her gloom, long enough to smile and reach over to touch Deirdre’s belly.

 

“He’s quiet today. I’m sure he’ll wake up as soon as I attempt to sleep,” Deirdre mused.

 

“Then perhaps you should take a nap while you can,” Catelyn suggested.

 

Deirdre nodded, resting her head against the side of the wayn, trying to push all other thoughts out of her mind, but she’d only grown more worried and tense since leaving Riverrun. The thought of the Freys made her sick to her stomach. The idea that Black Walder would be at the wedding terrified Jeyne and Deirdre worried that Robb or the Greatjon would kill him if Smalljon didn’t. But they all had to remain calm. They were at the mercy of the Freys now and that was an uneasy feeling, knowing how Walder Frey enjoyed making them squirm. Lame Lothar had taken a strange interest in her while at Riverrun, seeking her out whenever she wasn’t with Robb, asking her questions about her family and about the baby. Deirdre answered as briefly as she could and when it grew too uncomfortable, she’d excuse herself. He’d even made a strange remark about her closeness to Jaime, which struck her as odd since Lothar had not been in camp with them nor had she admitted any lingering affection for Jaime.

 

When she’d mentioned it to Robb, he hadn’t been pleased and had insisted that she remain away from Lothar aside from when Robb was present.  Still, she had found herself cornered by him one day, unable to brush him off. Lothar had mentioned the name Mina, and Deirdre had stared at him coldly, asking how he knew her mother’s name.

 

“I don’t recall exactly. It must have been Olyvar, or perhaps Lady Westerling mentioned it to me. She said she knew you when you were a child,” Lothar had said smoothly.

 

“Why are you interested in my family and my mother?” she’d asked flat out.

 

He’d offered her an easy smile and replied, “You are my queen. Of course I am fascinated by your history, Your Grace.”

 

After that, she’d made certain that she was never alone with Lothar Frey, even if it meant appearing rude. Why he cared so much about her Lannister relations was a matter of concern for her and it made Robb uneasy too. And now, once Jeyne departed with Lord Mallister, Lady Mormont, and Lord Glover, Deirdre would have to remain hidden so that Lame Lothar and Walder Rivers thought she had gone to Seagard as well. She worried that this plan was doomed to fail, but Robb had assured her that his guards knew to keep the Freys far enough away from her wayn that she’d never be seen.

 

x-x-x

 

Deidre had been sick as soon as they’d reached the Twins, which left a foul odor in the wayn and prevented her from eating anything the rest of the day. Catelyn had to leave her to greet the Freys, leaving Deirdre alone with Dacey. Deirdre heard, after the fact, that not only had there been some conflict between Grey Wind and one of the Freys, but the direwolf had balked at crossing the bridge. The news had left her cold. _This is no place for wolves._

 

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” Dacey had commented, though Deirdre had observed how her brows had furrowed. “By this time tomorrow, we’ll be heading north, Your Grace. Tonight, the only one who needs to worry is Edmure Tully. Let us pray to the gods that his new bride is nothing like her father.”

 

Deirdre felt sympathy for Edmure and wondered if Frey was giving him the same daughter he’d intended Robb to marry. For Edmure’s sake, Deirdre hoped she was as kind as her brother was. Olyvar had been a good squire to Robb and was very kind to Deirdre as well. 

 

As they crossed the bridge, she reached out and took Dacey’s hand. “It will be fine,” Dacey assured her, but Deirdre’s uneasiness persisted. Perhaps it was because she knew that Robb was worried enough about her to hide her presence. She couldn’t help feeling that if he was hiding her from Walder Frey that Robb had ample reason to fear for his own safety as well.

 

“What if Walder Frey takes Robb hostage and sells him out to the Lannisters?” she whispered. “What if we cross the bridge and are immediately attacked by their forces?”

 

“There is nothing on the other side of this bridge except a view of the north side of the Twins,” Dacey insisted. “Lord Frey could never hold His Grace here. His men would tear down the Twins stone by stone before they let that happen. Besides, I’ll be guarding him at the wedding and so will Smalljon, Patrek Mallister, and Wendel Manderly. Nothing will happen to King Robb. You’ll be protected out here and he’ll be protected in there. Nothing will happen.”

 

When they arrived in the camp, she remained in the wayn until Ned had set up his tent and then she ducked inside to wait for Robb to come see her before the wedding. She found herself pacing nonstop. It was all this secrecy that made her paranoid.  At last Robb came inside wearing his finest doublet and looking quite handsome. She rushed into his arms, eyes filling with tears. 

 

“What is it?” he asked, holding her tightly. She pressed her head against his chest, listening to the beat of his heart. _How I love this man._ For a fleeting moment, she was calm again and all was well. Then, it was over.

 

“Something about this place worries me, and I hear that was Grey Wind was ill at ease, as well. I wish we could climb on our horses and leave this place,” she replied, trying not to show how nervous she was and alarm him. But something made her so afraid and the baby was restless, his kicks hard against her side and incessant.

 

Robb stepped away from her, but held her hands in his. “It’s fine. Lord Frey was less hostile than I suspected he’d be. Edmure’s bride is fair ~~,~~ and seems gentle and kind, so he is happy with her. Even Mother can’t complain about our reception. Frey does expect me to dance with each of his daughters, but the chambers he’s given me are fine enough. You could stay in them tonight if you’d like. You have a built-in excuse for missing the wedding,” he said resting his hand on her stomach. “Our son is as anxious as you are, my love. Perhaps his mother needs to calm a little.”

 

“No, I don’t want to go inside. I want you out here with me tonight. Could you make excuses to sleep in your tent?”

 

“I’ll be with you. By then the wedding will be finished and I will have made amends with Lord Frey.I’ll think of something to say,” he answered dismissively. His eyes grew stormy. “Lord Bolton arrived. His bastard son has Theon Greyjoy at the Dreadfort. Ramsay Snow sent me a piece of his skin. Deirdre, he’s been…flayed alive.”

 

She put a hand to her mouth in horror. _What manner of creature was this Ramsay Snow?_

 

Robb took her hand again and squeezed it. “Part of me is disgusted but another part of me feels he deserves far worse. But I told Lord Bolton to put an end to it. I will punish Theon the proper way, the Northern way.”

 

Deirdre still felt nauseated by the news but said nothing. “Have you told Bolton about your plans when we leave here?”

 

“He knows that he’s leading the van from the south once we’re north of Moat Cailin. I think he might keep some of his men here at the Twins to wait for the raven about our sons. Lord Frey is his good-father now, so he’s likely to find more comfort at the Twins than in a camp within marching distance of the Moat. He asked after your health and sends his regards. Apparently his young Frey bride is also with child now.”

 

“Just what the world needs, another Frey,” she remarked with a smirk. “But I suppose this one will be a Bolton. Please tell Lord Bolton that I appreciate his thoughts. I suppose you must go or you’ll insult Lord Frey with your tardiness.”

 

Robb ran his hands down the side of her face as he smiled. “Soon it will be just you and I, waiting for our babes to be born. And we can forget this war for a while. I promise you, we will celebrate them together and someday, all of the north will celebrate our children at Winterfell.”

 

“I’m just ready to meet them,” she replied, her hands resting on her belly. “It’s been a long time since I first felt them stir.”

 

“I remember it like it was yesterday.” He smiled and kissed her deeply, burying his hands in her hair as his tongue probed her mouth, seeking entrance. She returned his kiss with equal hunger and sank into his arms, calmed by the familiar feel of him holding her. After he released her lips, he rested his forehead against hers and said, “I love you, my sweet. I wish I could spend the night with you instead of Walder Frey and his horde of daughters, but a king must do his duties.”

 

“Perhaps the king could slip out after the bedding and crawl into the queen’s bed,” she teased.

 

“The king would love to. I will find a way to return tonight, so don’t wait for me. The Freys intend to send food and drink to the camp, but I suggest you remain in Adair’s tent with your guards as planned. When I return, I’ll come to you,” he promised with another kiss.

 

She kissed him once more, then smiled and let him go. Ned escorted her to Adair’s tent and she lay down to rest, Robb’s grin fresh in her mind.

_She dreamed of Bran and Rickon’s wolves. And for the first time, she could sense Arya. They were screaming at her, warning her about something. Jon was running towards her and suddenly she noticed that she was standing on the edge of an endless sea of red. Grey Wind came out of nowhere and attempted to leap over the gory rush, but was quickly caught within, letting out a mournful howl. Jon’s face was a mixture of anger and terror, torn between leaping across to get to her or jumping in after Grey Wind. The wolf she so loved was drowning in an ocean of blood. She screamed and screamed._

Suddenly, she was shaken awake by Ned. Her ears were ringing, and she realized with mounting dread that the screams hadn’t been confined to her dreams. They filled the air around her and her blood ran cold. Death. I’m surrounded by death. Where is Robb?

 

“We must go now, Your Grace,” he said swiftly as he pulled her from the bed without waiting for a response. She could smell smoke and hear the chaos outside. Without thinking, she pulled away from him and rushed from the tent, screaming for Robb.

_x-x-x_

Robb could hear the clashing of steel on steel over the music, though he could see nothing but the table atop him. The weight of the table and the Smalljon’s body had him pinned to the ground. He was dying; he had no doubt. But he would not die hiding beneath a table, as his men died around him. He heard the howling outside and reached for Grey Wind. If he could warg into the wolf now, perhaps he could save Deirdre at least. Hot tears fell on his face. He’d never kiss or hold her again. He’d never hold his child. His child and his wife - the reason Lord Frey planned this slaughter – they’d be hunted, both mother and child would be hunted more than ever. Robb wouldn’t let the old bastard kill his child. His sons…Robb knew in his very soul that Deirdre carried two sons. He had to get to her somehow to help her escape to Jon.

 

Jon would protect his sons and his wife, for the love he bore Robb and for the love he most likely still bore Deirdre. Jon would rebuild Winterfell and bring Sansa and Arya home. He’d avenge Robb’s death. His brother would take Walder Frey’s head.

 

Robb knew he couldn’t make it out of the hall on his own. He saw the bodies of his men scattered around and worried for his mother. He tried to remember where had she been before the fight began. Rising up, he pushed the table a few inches.

 

“Robb!” He registered Dacey’s voice at his side and felt her push at the table.

 

“Dacey! Stop!” he ordered as forcefully as he could, despising how weak he sounded. Her face came into view as she crouched down to his level. “Find Deirdre. You need to help Ned and the others get her to the Wall. Give Jon my will.”

 

“I’ll help you first,” she insisted, tears streaming. There was blood on her face and the tears made wet tracks through it. “Then we’ll both find Deirdre.” She started to stand up again but Robb grabbed her arm. She stopped and clutched his hand.

 

“As your king, I command you to go,” he said weakly but she shook her head, her eyes pleading with him. “Find my mother and go. Please Dacey, as my friend…for the love I know you have for me and my family…please go, help my mother and protect my wife and child.” Tears choked his voice. “Tell her that she was everything to me and that I will love her until my last breath…please Dacey, tell her. _Please_ go.”

 

She continued to shake her head in denial, then glanced around the room before her eyes once again took in Robb’s wounds. After a moment, Dacey nodded reluctantly and kissed his hand, sobbing openly. In between sobs she said, “It was an honor to fight for you. I will follow no other but your blood. I will protect them with my life. I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you, my king…my _friend_.” With a final squeeze of her hand, she disappeared.

 

Once again, he was alone in this hall of death that reeked of betrayal and blood. Focusing on Grey Wind, Robb poured his energy into reaching the wolf. The attempt left him dazed, and he still couldn’t sense him, not now, when he needed to most. Anger filled him at the sheer bloody injustice of it all and he pushed at the table in frustration, determined to kill Walder Frey or die trying. Suddenly his vision blurred and he thought perhaps he’d been hit again. Then he felt the familiar rush of sensations from Grey Wind.

 

He thrashed against a net as arrows rained down on him. A crossbow bolt struck his hindquarters but at an angle that did little damage. Robb felt Grey Wind’s panic and had to struggle to stay with the wolf. Suddenly bolts were hitting him and he howled in pained fury. Robb’s sense of loss and despair of Grey Wind’s fate threw him deeper into the wolf’s mind and he wasn’t sure if he could pull himself away if he tried. He recognized a voice and saw his standard bearer, Raynald Westerling, swinging an ax above the net. Two bolts hit his shoulder tearing through the muscle and sinew with such force, Grey Wind whimpered and Robb groaned aloud. As the wolf crashed to the ground, free of the net, Robb was forced out of him, back to the cursed hall. He attempted to rejoin his wolf, but the pain was too much. He wasn’t sure if it was his own pain or Grey Wind’s but he was losing strength fast.

 

Robb had to get up. He could not lay there and die while his wife and child were in danger. At least his mother was likely safe. Praying to the old gods and the new, he pushed at the table once more to slide out from underneath it. Every inch of him ached and he struggled for breath. Taking a summary of his wounds, Robb refused to give up hope. He could get to Deirdre and her guards. They’d take him to a maester and he’d hold his sons in his arms soon.

 

A memory of his own father came rushing back to him _. He and Jon had been small children, climbing through the windows of the Broken Tower, despite his parents forbidding it. Jon had cleared the window and waited outside, but the fabric of Robb’s breeches had caught on a jagged piece of wood, throwing him off balance. When he landed outside the window, he had managed to rip open his leg in a wound almost to the bone.  Jon tried to help him limp back to the castle so no one would see where they’d been but he couldn’t get too far bearing most of Robb’s weight._

_“Don’t tell Father,” Robb made Jon swear when at last he sent his brother for help._

_Jory Cassell had come, carried Robb back to his room and sent for Maester Luwin. Jon had sat there watching Robb, refusing to speak for fear he’d be questioned. When his father came into the room, Jon whispered, “I didn’t tell him. I swear it.”_

_“What’s this?” Father had asked, sitting on the bed and looking at the wound. “How did this happen?” When Robb remained silent, his father had looked expectantly at Jon, who’d stared at his feet. With a sigh, Father rose to get some water and a cloth. “You were both in the Broken Tower, weren’t you? There are reasons why it’s forbidden. This time it was a cut, next time one of you might break a bone or worse; break your foolish necks.”_

_The tears that Robb had held at bay thus far threatened to fall. When they filled his eyes, he bit his lip to keep them back. Ned began cleaning the wound while waiting for the maester. “I imagine this hurts enough that you’ve learned your lesson, haven’t you?”_

_His father had eyed him until Robb had nodded. “If you break the rules, sometimes you have to pay a price.” Glancing back and forth between the two, Father had continued, “In future, when you think of going to the Broken Castle, I want you to remember how much this hurt, Robb. Jon, remember how worried you were about your brother. You both promised me you wouldn’t go play there. You are supposed to protect each other and that includes reminding each other not to do dangerous things. Each time you are about to do something foolish, don’t think of yourself, but instead of how bad it would feel to have your brother hurt because you were careless.”_

_“Are you going to tell Mother?” Robb had asked miserably._

_“One day, you’ll make mistakes that cannot be erased as easily as keeping it from your mother, Robb. Someday, other people’s lives will depend on you.” Father had run a hand through his hair and looked at the pair of them then, his grey eyes solemn. “Do you understand? Suffering reminds us how frail we are, so you must **always** learn from it.” _

Robb had never felt so vulnerable as he did then, lying there like a rag doll on the floor of the hall in the godforsaken Twins. The possibility that his wife and child would suffer as well left him feeling frail and weak to his core. He remembered painfully how much Jon had suffered under the weight of having a parent that he would never know, and Robb knew well the pain of losing a father. And now he was leaving his wife a widow, his sons fatherless.

 

Gathering what strength he had left, Robb struggled to his knees. The music had stopped save for a drum and it seemed to thrum in sync with the beat of his heart. He heard Grey Winds howling. _He still lives, and so do I._ Feeling a surge of hope he took a breath and raised his head, taking in the scene around him. The raw carnage almost destroyed that hope, but in the back of his mind he kept repeating Deirdre’s name, remembering the feeling of his child kicking at his hand through her stomach, the joy in Deirdre’s face when she’d see him after a battle: Deirdre, his sweet wife who needed him to survive this or at least, to _fight_.

 

His gaze fell on Lord Walder Frey and Robb gritted his teeth, then put his hand on the table and forced himself to stand despite the agony of his wounds.

 

 _“_ You Starks are hard to kill.” Jon had said when they’d last seen each other. _‘You’ll be a Stark soon, brother. Protect Deirdre and my children. Love them well.’_

**_//“Heh,” Lord Walder cackled at Robb, “the King in the North arises. Seems we killed some of your men, Your Grace. Oh, but I’ll make you an apology, that will mend them all again, heh.” ||_ **

Robb growled low in his throat, hatred for this vile man coursing through his system.  Before he could answer him, he heard his mother speak and some of the fight left him. Dacey… had she left his mother or was she lying in this hall somewhere, dead? _Deirdre…_

 

 ** _//“Lord Walder! LORD WALDER! Enough,” said Catelyn. “Enough, I say. You have repaid betrayal with betrayal, let it end.”_** His mother held a knife to the neck of Frey’s lackwit grandson. **_“Please,” she said. “He is my son. My first son, and my last. Let him go. Let him go and I swear we will forget this... forget all you’ve done here. I swear it by the old gods and new, we... we will take no vengeance...”_**

****

**_Lord Walder peered at her in mistrust. “Only a fool would believe such blather. D’you take me for a fool, my lady?”_ **

****

**_“I take you for a father. Keep me for a hostage, Edmure as well if you haven’t killed him. But let Robb go.”_ **

****

**_“No.” Robb’s voice was whisper faint. “Mother, no..._ **

****

**_“Yes. Robb, get up. Get up and walk out, please, please. Save yourself... if not for me,\\\_** for Deirdre. Do it for your wife and child.”

 

“Deirdre,” he whispered, hearing the wolf howling mournfully. Robb knew he was weakening. Grey Wind was dying and so was Robb.

**_//“Mother,” he said, “Grey Wind...”_ **

****

**_“Go to him. Now. Robb, walk out of here.”_ **

****

**_Lord Walder snorted. “And why would I let him do that?”\\\_ **

 

 _‘No, mother. It’s too late,’_ Robb thought but couldn’t form the words aloud. He wanted to plead for his mother to be spared but Grey Wind’s howls were growing quieter still. Robb felt his heart slowing and his head swam. _‘Deirdre, my beloved, go to Jon. He will protect you and will love you as I have. Gods give him strength to protect you all. Find our sisters, Jon…find fierce little Arya and sweet, beautiful Sansa. Bring them all home. I want my sons to be raised in Winterfell with my sisters and you. I love you. I love you all.’_

**_//“On my honor as a Tully,” Catelyn told Lord Walder, “on my honor as a Stark, I will trade your boy’s life for Robb’s. A son for a son.”_ **

****

**_“A son for a son, heh,” he repeated. “But that’s a grandson... and he never was much use.” \\\_ **

 

Robb knew the moment that Grey Wind breathed his last and felt the motion pass through him. He took a few feeble steps, not knowing anymore where he was going. He was too weak to go any further.  Roose Bolton appeared before him and Robb stared at him, reaching out to catch himself on Bolton’s shoulder. He was close enough that Robb could hear his breathing, soft and steady. The lone beat of a drum continued to sound through the silent hall.

 

 _“Jaime Lannister sends his regards,”_ Lord Bolton said. Robb didn’t even have time to register his meaning before he felt the blade. Somewhere, his mother was screaming.

 

The blade was cold. Then, there was nothing.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> __  
> **A/N again - PLEASE don't hate me. I didn't want to do the Red Wedding but I kinda had to. And it was horrible and terrible to write as much as it was to read! Blame GRRM not me!**  
>   
> 
> __  
> **The dialog between Walder Frey and Catelyn Stark that is bolded and italicized is direct quotes.**  
> 


	8. Chapter 8

 

 

_A/N Thank you to[Auria](../../../users/Auria) for the beta! _ _Thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback!_

**Chapter 8**

 

Dacey stumbled away from Robb, her tears blinding her. Benfrey Frey grabbed her arm as she moved away, but she was able to grab a flagon of wine and smash it against his head. She ran for the doors, all the while searching for Lady Stark. Suddenly Ryman Frey was in front of her, clad in full armor and swinging a battle ax at her stomach. She spun away from him at the last possible second and rammed her elbow into his nose as hard as she could, causing him to stumble forward.

 

“Northern BITCH,” he snarled, dropping his ax and reaching up to stifle the blood streaming from his face.

 

Dacey’s knee met his stomach and he fell forward like a sack of grain. Stepping around him, she made her way through the doors. She hadn’t seen Lady Stark anywhere, so she hoped she’d escaped the hall.

 

Freys were coming from every direction, but none seemed to recognize her. They must have taken her for a servant or one of their female relatives fleeing the room. One man attempted to stop her, but received a fist to the face for his trouble. She found her way to the yard, where she saw that someone had cut Grey Wing loose. She was left unhindered as Frey men-at-arms focused on the direwolf and she prayed that Grey Wind could reach Robb in time. Dacey could barely breathe. This was a thousand times worse than any battle she’d seen or fought, but she had to find Deirdre. As she ran across the drawbridge into the camp, she saw that Frey men were slaughtering the Northmen out there as well. It was complete chaos, with tents ablaze and unarmed men being put to the sword. Her blood ran cold when she heard a man command, “Find the queen! Do not harm her!” _Deirdre._

 

Dacey’s thoughts were a complete mess as she tried to remember where Deirdre was. She knew she wouldn’t be in Robb’s tent. Robb always insisted she remain elsewhere when he wasn’t in the camp, in case of attack. She bent down to retrieve a sword and dagger from a corpse at her feet and resumed running: there was a group of men moving north from the tents and she knew it had to be Deirdre’s guards. Half of them were engaged in fights, and fury filled her as she realized that the men they were fighting bore the flayed man of House Bolton. The other half were trying to get the horses together. At last, Dacey saw Deirdre, who was struggling furiously to escape Ned’s grasp.

 

“Let me go to Robb! I must find Robb!” Deirdre pled.

 

“Patrek, get my horse,” Ned ordered as he kept a firm hold on his queen. His arms were around her, physically restraining her, at times lifting her off the ground as she fought against him.

 

“Robb is coming,” Dacey lied, grabbing Deirdre’s hands. “Come. He said he’d meet us on the road, but we must leave now. He didn’t want us to wait for him.”

 

Ned studied her for a moment and gave her a minute nod. Pushing Deirdre towards Robert and Adair, Ned mounted his horse and reached for the queen. Deirdre hesitated, looking at Dacey again.

 

“Do it for your child, Your Grace. If you don’t leave now, those men in camp will find you. They will kill the babe,” Dacey pleaded, pushing her toward Ned’s horse.

 

“No. No…no…no…no…Grey Wind’s stopped howling,” Deirdre sobbed, taking a few steps away from the horse.

 

She was right, and Dacey’s heart clenched in anguish. He had been Robb’s last hope. “He’s with Robb. Let’s go now.”

 

Deirdre froze, taking in the men around them. “No, I can’t leave him.”

 

A man screamed, “There’s the queen! Get her!”

 

Robert grabbed Deirdre by the shoulders and turned her towards the horse. Before she could resist, he and Adair lifted her onto the horse with Ned and he took off. Tristan and Daryn had left already with a wagon full of supplies, riding north as fast as the wagon could go. Dacey didn’t know where her horse was so she let Adair pull her up behind him.

 

“What about Lady Stark? Robb told me to help her, but I couldn’t find her,” Dacey asked, her voice laced with pain.

                                                                                                                                                                                   

“They’ve probably taken her as a hostage. We can’t help her now,” Adair responded shortly, digging his heels into the horse. His eyes were hard as he urged the horse to go faster.

 

Deirdre’s other guards mounted and followed shortly after them. As they rode away, Dacey caught sight of some of the remaining Northmen rush the men giving pursuit, weaponless but fierce none the less, sacrificing their lives for the queen and the heir of their king.

 

They rode hard for hours. They were pursued a few times by a handful of Bolton men but managed to put an end to them, as Ned continued on with Deirdre, flanked by at least three other guards. When two hours of riding had elapsed without pursuit, the small party stopped, the horses lathered. 

 

Deirdre continued to ask after Robb and Lady Stark. Ned helped her off the horse and she almost collapsed. Gathering her up in his arms, he carried her to a copse of trees, placing her down gently. He crouched down and said softly, “Your Grace, the king knows where to come for us, and will meet us when he is able. You need to rest and keep your strength up. It’s going to be a long journey, but he’ll be there waiting for you once we reach the Wall.”

 

Dacey sat down tiredly. Patrek and Robert were going through the trunks in the wagon looking for blankets. Deirdre watched them silently, hands shaking ever so slightly.

 

“I’m going to find some water. Dacey, walk with me,” Ned said abruptly, taking a couple of buckets off the wagon. Stepping close to Robert, he whispered, “Make sure someone stays close enough to the queen that he can physically stop her from leaving your sight.”

 

“I’ll help you two,” Adair said, grabbing a bucket.

 

As soon as they were out of earshot, finding a small creek a short ways from the camp, the men turned to Dacey to learn what had happened within the Twins.  As she spoke, Ned grew as taunt as a bowstring.  She could see the effort it took him to remain calm and knew he was a hair’s breadth from full-blown rage. When she told them of her final conversation with Robb, she dissolved into tears, sinking to her knees on the wet ground.

 

Dacey wasn’t soft; she was a Mormont of Bear Island and had trained as a warrior her entire life. She didn’t cry when she was hurt or when a family member suffered some ill. She’d taken wounds with nary a tear shed. But she sobbed like a babe now, inconsolable. Ned sat down heavily beside her and pulled her into his arms.

 

“I left him to die,” she cried. “I couldn’t find Lady Stark and I panicked when the Frey men came in. I couldn’t get back into the hall, so I fled. I failed him.”

 

“You didn’t fail him,” Ned told her gently. “You got out in time to help us. If you hadn’t told Deirdre that Robb had sent you, we wouldn’t have gotten her away from there. She’d already tried to reach the bridge when Grey Wind began howling and the Bolton men turned on us. Seeing you had made it out, she probably believed Robb would too.”

 

“No, I left him to die, alone and defenseless.”

 

“Dacey, you did as he commanded. You helped save his wife and child. We did what we had to do. If Robb is dead, his child is in more danger now than before. And when the babe’s born, he’ll need our protection more than ever,” Ned said firmly.

 

“We cannot tell her about the king,” Adair said quietly. “This journey will be hard enough for her. If you let her know that Robb won’t be waiting at the end of it, she could give up and lose the babe. I don’t believe she could survive losing them both.”

 

“Agreed. We cannot tell her that Robb is probably dead. We’ll need to find out for certain though. The Freys might have taken him as a hostage. We should rest here for a few more hours and then make for Greywater Watch. It’s not far, but we cannot reach it in the dark and risk the crannogman thinking we’re the enemy. Hopefully they’ll have news of the king. There are Ironborn at Moat Cailin and we don’t know who in the north is aligned with Bolton. We can’t trust the Karstarks or risk going into a keep for protection but King Robb assured us of Lord Reed’s loyalty, though we will remain cautious. Your mother is likely there now. The king told us to take the queen to the Wall, so we will find a way somehow.” Ned squeezed Dacey’s shoulders. “Adair, can you fetch the water while I speak some more with Dacey?”

 

While the other man got the water, Ned let Dacey cry until she couldn’t cry anymore. _I must not have any tears left._ She splashed cold water on her face and took a deep breath.

 

Ned regarded her with eyes full of concern. “She’s going to want to question you most of all, Dacey. Are you ready for this?”

 

“Ready to lie to my friend and queen? No. But for her sake and for Robb, I will.”

 

x-x-x

 

“Here’s another blanket,” Robert said, handing it to Deirdre. “Are you warm enough, Your Grace?”

 

“I don’t think I’ll never be warm again,” she whispered, tears rolling down her face. “I don’t understand why Lord Frey would do this. Robb went there to make peace with him. And why would Lord Bolton betray us?” Her legs and back ached, and her heart felt like it had been cut from her with a dull blade. Robb’s face swam through her mind each time she closed her eyes.

 

“I don’t know, Your Grace,” the man said. “Power or gold is usually the root of deceit, but with traitors, who truly knows.”

 

“Lord Stark was betrayed and murdered. Bran and Rickon were betrayed and murdered. Lady Stark and Robb suffered enough betrayal before tonight,” she said quietly. The babe was quite active, sensing his mother’s unrest, so she placed her hands on her stomach in an attempt to soothe him. “If Robb’s dead, I would know it, wouldn’t I?”

 

Ned rejoined them then. “He’ll probably reach the Wall before we do. You need to rest now so we can start at first light.”

                                                                                                                                    

“I’m scared to close my eyes. And the babe is kicking furiously.”

 

“He’s reacting to you, so you need to calm yourself. Dacey will share your bed. The extra body heat will be good for you both,” Ned said as Dacey rejoined them. She’d swapped her gown for a tunic and breeches she’d found in the wagon.

 

“Robert and I will take first watch,” Adair said. “Try to get some rest, Your Grace.”

 

Dacey smiled slightly as she sat down beside her, tucking herself under the blankets. “It’ll be like sleeping with my sisters again.”

 

“What did Robb say when he sent you for me?” Deirdre asked and saw the pain in Dacey’s face.

 

“There was very little time. Just that I needed to find you and the rest of your guards, and that we should head for the Wall,” Dacey replied, looking up at the sky above them. The stars were out and glimmered as they always had, seemingly unaware of the horror that had visited them all tonight.

 

Deirdre remained uneasy. “But in camp, you said he told us he’d meet us on the road.”

 

“It was chaos when I got back to the camp. I misspoke. Please, Your Grace, could we talk about this after we’ve had some sleep?” Dacey still wasn’t meeting her eyes.

 

“Yes, of course. Dacey…I’m so sorry for whatever happened to you in there. I’m just grateful that you weren’t hurt,” Deirdre said gently and reached out to put her hand on her friend’s arm. “I can’t imagine what I would do without you all.” Dacey took her hand and squeezed it tightly, but said nothing. She rolled to her side, facing away from Deirdre.

 

It took her a long time to fall asleep but when she did, she didn’t dream. The babe woke her up after a few hours and she had to get up to make water. By then, Patrek and Balin were on watch. When Deirdre stood up to move, both Ned and Dacey sat up quickly, keenly alert. She assured them she was fine and they lay back down.

 

x-x-x

 

Everyone was awake by first light. Jace and Balin took full stock of the supplies they’d managed to take with them. Fortunately, they seemed to have enough food and they broke their fast on dried meat, berries, and nuts, though Deidre found it difficult to eat.  She didn’t care about food - she felt terrible anyway. The events of last night had taken a toll on her body and the babe remained restless. Her body ached from the hard ride to escape the Twins. But mostly her heart yearned for Robb. She couldn’t wait to be in his arms again.

 

They reached the swamps that surrounded Greywater Watch before midday and decided to risk unfurling the banner of the king. It was a time before a few small men clad in greens and browns appeared, and Dacey and Ned rode forward to speak with them, handing them a sealed letter from the king.

 

The men took them through the swamps on foot as they led their horses. They reached an area that required pole boats to get through and Deirdre grew more and more nervous. It seemed like they were leading them to nowhere and she feared they’d slaughter them all eventually. Dacey had assured her that Lord Reed was one of Lord Stark’s most trusted friends and that the crannogmen held no love for the Freys, but Deirdre could see that her guards remained watchful, eyes suspicious, no doubt on edge after the betrayals of the previous night.

 

They reached a small island and were greeted by Lady Mormont and Lord Glover. Dacey almost ran into her mother’s arms.

 

“I feared I’d lost you,” Maege said, holding her daughter against her tightly.

 

They spoke quietly for a few moments before Lady Mormont and Lord Glover approached Deirdre. “Your Grace, it does my heart good to see you again,” Lord Glover said, giving her a small bow. Maege Mormont offered her much the same.

 

“Is Robb alive?” Deirdre asked bluntly.

 

Lady Mormont hesitated before saying, “We don’t know. Come. Lord Reed wishes to meet you.”

 

They were led to a strange building but it was so murky outside, Deirdre couldn’t see much. Ned helped her walk through the slippery rocks that surrounded the keep. They were greeted at the door by a small quiet man and woman, both dressed plainly. “Your Grace, I am Howland Reed and this is my wife, Jyana. We are honored to welcome you to Greywater Watch.”

 

“Thank you Lord Reed, Lady Reed,” Deirdre answered. “We hoped you’d have news of my husband.”

 

“Come inside and rest, Your Grace. We’ll tell you what we know,” Lady Jyana said leading them inside.

 

Greywater Watch was unlike any other castle or holdfast Deidre had visited. The entryway was a slab of rock that seemed like it should have been too heavy for the small crannogmen to move, and the walls were adorned with huge woven tapestries depicting weirwood groves, plant life, and all manner of faunae. Deirdre didn’t recognize half of the beasts displayed, shivering slightly at the strange images of dark creatures with large ears, sharp eyes and long black claws. What stone she could see glistened faintly, but when she ran a finger across the surface of the wall, it was dry.

 

The Reeds led them to the Great Hall, which was actually fairly intimate. The furniture was made of wood and seemed ancient. The main table was small compared to most Great Halls and a fire crackled in an elaborately-carved stone hearth. The murals on the walls gave an observer the impression of being outdoors, of sitting amidst the lush forests that surrounded the castle, though it seemed almost unnaturally light in here, making the room feel friendly and welcoming in a way that the shrouded marshlands outside did not. Lord Glover held out a chair for Deirdre and once she had been seated, everyone else took their places, with the Reeds sitting at the head of the table. Dacey sat to one side of her with Ned on the other and Lady Mormont across from them.

 

After their party had been fed and rested, Lord Reed explained what they knew of the wedding. “We haven’t had much information, but we do know that Lord Frey and Lord Bolton’s men murdered most of the men and lords at the feast and camp. Lady Stark is dead and they’re holding the Greatjon and Lord Tully as their hostages, along with a few of the other lords. We’re waiting to hear which ones. We…don’t know about His Grace. They haven’t found his body, but neither Bolton nor Frey claims they have him as a captive.”

 

“If they killed him, they would be telling everyone he was dead. They wouldn’t want people still loyal to him to think that there was even the slightest hope that he was alive. Smalljon or one of the others must have gotten him out. Or Grey Wind found him and helped him escape,” Deirdre insisted, her heart pounding hard in her chest. “I’d know if he were dead. I’d feel it.”

 

“Smalljon is dead, Your Grace,” Dacey admitted. “I saw him cut down myself.”

 

Deirdre let out a sob, remembering the Smalljon’s rich laughter and bear hugs. Her thoughts turned to Jeyne and their unborn child. At least she was safe in Seagard. But with the Greatjon a hostage, Deirdre would see that Jeyne was sent north to the rest of the Umbers. Perhaps she’d just want to go home though, rather than live with strangers. _And her child will be without a father. Gods…let hers be the only one._

 

Dacey continued quietly, “Grey Wind and King Robb are together, I’d wager.”

 

Lady Mormont gave Dacey a strange look before nodding slowly. “Yes, I’m sure Grey Wind protected him. We have to be careful, though, because King Joffrey has made Lord Bolton Warden of the North. If your child is a boy, you’re a threat to Bolton’s rule. He knows the Northmen and Riverlords will rally behind Robb Stark’s heir.”

 

“The Boltons _are_ Northmen. Walder Frey is a Riverlord. We can’t take anyone for granted,” Deirdre retorted angrily. “This is Tywin Lannister’s work or Bolton wouldn’t _be_ Warden. Neither Frey or Bolton would have done this without Tywin’s involvement. Not only would they require royal pardons for their allegiance to Robb, but they wouldn’t have dared to make such a bold move without a powerful friend to back them.”

 

“It does seem likely that Lord Tywin or Ser Jaime had a hand in this. The men who attacked the camps were told to take the queen alive, and I heard some others talking about readying her to depart for King’s Landing. If Bolton was trying to use her or the babe to manipulate the Northmen, he’d keep the queen at the Dreadfort, not take her to King’s Landing,” Dacey pointed out.

 

“Jaime wouldn’t do this. This isn’t his way. He’d attack Robb on the battlefield or fight him man-to-man. He wouldn’t plan a massacre at a wedding. He’s not one for schemes,” Deirdre insisted. “Jaime would also have made sure I was safe before he risked sending men into the camps. I know it’s hard to believe, but Jaime would never hurt _me_.”

 

“The king wanted Deirdre to go to the Wall,” Ned said to Lord Reed. “We’ll need your help to get her there. We cannot travel by land.”

 

“Wouldn’t it be safer to remain here, as his letter indicates he’d planned to do before heading North?” Lady Reed suggested. “We have a midwife and no one would look for her here.”

 

“I vowed I’d take her to the Wall, to Jon Snow. I have to honor my king’s wishes, no matter how difficult,” Ned insisted. “And we can’t be sure of who His Grace told about the plans to remain here.”

 

“Stay here tonight and rest, Your Grace. In the morning, the crannogmen with help us get your party through the swamps to a boat. Then I’ll take you to Oldcastle myself to find a ship large enough to take you to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. My good sister is of House Locke. Lord Locke will give me a ship without too many questions. I do not think he would betray us, but we can’t risk anyone knowing your identity or location,” Lord Glover said.

 

Deirdre knew she had little choice but to trust them. She knew Galbart Glover and Maege Mormont were loyal and, if they trusted the Reeds, then she could as well. But she barely knew of House Locke. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to go to White Harbor? Surely, Lord Manderly is trustworthy. Robb spoke of him very fondly and often said he was among Lord Eddard’s most faithful bannermen.”

 

“Lord Manderly _is_ loyal but White Harbor is too large. Too many unfriendly eyes, I suspect. Your Grace, please, you must understand. If King Robb is indeed slain, you could be carrying the next King in the North. If the King is alive, you’re still the most valuable hostage an enemy could hope to hold. The male Stark heirs are spent, other than your child if it’s a boy. Bolton would do _anything_ to have you as his hostage,” Lord Glover stressed.

 

Tears burned her eyes and she had to look away from them all. Her babe might not even have the chance to draw his first breath if she was betrayed again. And if she wasn’t careful, he could still be used as a pawn. Lady Mormont reached over and squeezed her hand, murmuring quietly, “We’re going to protect you, Your Grace. You and your child will remain safe, I promise you.”

 

x-x-x

 

The Reeds led them all to bedchambers and some women drew Deirdre a bath. As soon as she was alone, she wept until she exhausted herself and could cry no longer. Her heart felt as if it had been wrenched from her body and she craved Robb’s arms around her as she would hunger for breath in her lungs. She couldn’t stop thinking of Grey Wind’s wretched howls last night. Her child was the only thing that kept her from going mad from the thought of it.

 

That night she dreamed of the wolves, and of Robb. Ghost was wounded and Grey Wind was a mere shadow. Summer and Shaggydog were so far away from the others. The Robb in her dreams was different. There were no wounds or shadows or distances between them. They were in Winterfell, laughing with Bran and Rickon, running through the trees and making love in the Godswood. She was at their wedding and he was looking at her with so much sweetness, in love with her already. Jon was there as well, angry and hurting and so very, very sad. And Lord Stark was comforting her before her wedding, promising her that Robb would be a good husband. When she awoke, her eyes were swollen and her insides ached from the emptiness. Never before had a bed seemed so cold as it did now, waking up without Robb beside her, cradling her against him and whispering her name as they set about to begin their day.

 

The babe within her stirred. The kicks were fretful and hard.

 

x-x-x

 

The Reeds and Lady Mormont saw them off that morning. Lord and Lady Reed took her aside for a few moments to let Deirdre know that their children, Meera and Jojen, had gone to Winterfell to visit Bran before the Ironborn took the castle. Deirdre took a shaky breath and apologized for their loss. Lord Reed smiled gently. “Oh, we do not believe they are gone. Jojen had a mission to complete and Meera will watch over him. They will return to us when they can. Until then, I am comforted by the knowledge that they are together.”

 

Deirdre said nothing but privately wondered at their faith that their children were alive.  She didn’t think it likely, but still. Were they at the Dreadfort with the other survivors of the siege? Now that she knew of Bolton’s duplicity, she wondered if Winterfell’s survivors had been slaughtered as soon as they’d reached the Dreadfort, or if they’d even made it that far. She didn’t want to think about the Reed children being dead along with Bran and Rickon, so she simply smiled faintly at the Reeds and remained silent.

 

Lord Reed promised that his men would be there for Jon Snow when the Northmen were ready to re-take Moat Cailin and the other lands in the neck held by the Ironborn. Lady Mormont was going to Bear Island to gather more men. She promised Dacey they’d meet in Last Hearth or Castle Black once Jon was ready to depart the Wall with Deirdre. Deirdre tried not to notice how they spoke of Jon as if he would be the one to lead them in the inevitable battle. They’ve given up hope that Robb’s alive. She couldn’t do the same.

 

Lord Glover and some of the crannogmen led them out of the swamps in pole boats and guided them to a larger boat. It wasn’t big enough for all of their horses and the wagon so they left half of the horses behind. Dacey assured her that they’d find more in Eastwatch, but Deirdre didn’t care about the horses. The only horse she cared about was Flame Dancer, the horse that Robb had given her as a wedding gift, and who she’d had to leave at the Twins. It infuriated her to think of some Frey perched atop him, if they hadn’t slaughtered him already.

 

True to his word, Lord Glover found them a ship in Oldcastle that took them the rest of the way. He did not come with them though, and Deirdre didn’t know where he was going next. She’d have to remember to ask.

 

Deirdre spent much of the time on the boat and the ship that followed abed. Between sea sickness and despair, she couldn’t muster the strength to do anything but cry or sleep. She insisted on being left alone, not wanting the others to see how hopeless and weak she was. _A queen should be strong enough to make it through the day without tears. But I am no queen without Robb._  She had never felt so alone. _He still lives. He must._

 

There was no one else on this ship save for a handful of guards. She had no family, no one else she could trust until she found Robb. Resting her hands on her stomach and her anxious babe, she prayed to the Mother for protection for her child and to the Warrior and the Father to bring Robb back to her.

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

 

 

 

 

 _A/N Thank you to[Auria](../../../users/Auria) for the beta! _ _Thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback!_

 

**Chapter 9**

 

It took them weeks to reach Eastwatch, even with a swift ship. When they reached land again, Deirdre stayed out of sight with a few of her men while Dacey and Ned arranged for horses more suited to the northern climate and a covered wagon. Deirdre was too close to her time and could no longer ride. They traveled along the Wall, the snows slowing them down, and she feared they’d never make it to Castle Black before the babe was born.

 

Before they left Eastwatch, Ned warned her, “When we get to the Wall, we cannot tell people who you are. Your goodbrother will know, of course. The Lord Commander is Dacey’s uncle, and she assures me that he can be trusted, so there’s him as well. Their Maester will likely be loyal to Lord Commander Mormont, and we’re as like to need his help with the birth and afterbirth. But we should tell no one else unless Jon knows they can be trusted. Before we know otherwise, we must assume that _no one_ can be trusted.”

 

Deirdre had nodded in understanding.

 

“Your Grace,” Robert had said then, and she’d looked over to at him. He’d knelt down, laying his sword at her feet. “You are my queen and you carry my king’s heir. Once again, I swear that I am your man, devoted to you and your child from this day until my last day. The king chose us to protect you and I will honor that with fealty until my death.”

 

“As will I,” Adair had sworn, kneeling and swearing the same oath as Robert had.

 

One by one the men had taken a knee and vowed to defend and serve her child and herself. Dacey had been the last. “I promised King Robb that I would protect you and take you to Jon Snow. I gave him my word as his guard and as his friend. And I do the same to you. His last words to me were to tell you that he’d love you to his last breath. If the king is truly dead, he died with you in his heart. I will honor my promise to him and serve you until my last day.”

 

Deirdre had blinked away tears and straightened. _I must be their queen, no matter how great my grief_ she’d thought. “Your oaths honor me beyond words, and I accept them. No family is as steadfast as the Starks, and no bannerman are worthier of distinction than the Northmen who are truly loyal to them. Roose Bolton has shamed the Northmen with his treachery and one day he will pay. Until then, protect my child, and I will be forever grateful.”

 

“Children, Your Grace,” Dacey had said with a smile. “The King was convinced that there are two.”

 

Deirdre had had to smile herself, smiled, and had given her stomach a small rub, pleased when she felt her child move. “For the first time, I hope so. They would never be alone, then.”

 

The babe moved constantly now, making her even more miserable. When she slept, she was back in the camps behind the Twins, trying to claw her way through the black shapes surrounding her to reach her husband, who was always on the other side of a surging river of blood. The more she pushed forward, the further away the Twins were, though they loomed over her like the arched entryway to a tomb. She could tell her men were worried about her by the looks they gave her when they thought she wasn’t looking. She was a queen and she had to be strong, so she hid her tears when she felt them come, forcing them back until she could curl up under her furs at night, cradling her babe and pretending that her hands were Robb’s.

 

x-x-x

 

They were two days from Castle Black when her birthing pains began. They rode all day and night, only stopping to rest the horses before they set off again. The last day Deirdre wept for hours, begging for Robb in between her pains. When they’d stopped to check on her, Dacey had told Ned she didn’t think they’d make it to the Wall before Deirdre had the babe.

 

“She can’t have the child here, Dacey. It’s not safe. We’ve got to move faster,” Ned had insisted from his place at Deirdre’s side. Brushing Deirdre’s hair away from her face, he’d said firmly, “You’re not having this babe here, Your Grace. Do you understand me? I know it’s a Stark and very stubborn, but this is no place to have a child.”

 

“I’m sorry,” she’d replied weakly. “I know you’re all trying your best and are exhausted, too.”

 

“We’ll be fine if you can just manage to hold on for a little bit longer. When we get to Castle Black, the maester will help you, and your goodbrother will be there as well,” Ned had soothed with a gentle smile. “If anything happens to you now, I’d never forgive myself, so promise me you won’t have this babe until you’re safely in Castle Black.”

 

Deirdre had nodded her agreement, biting back her cries. She loved Ned dearly, as much as a brother. She loved all of her men now more than ever before. But she wanted Robb. She wanted him to hold her, to tell her that it would be all right, that their babe would be all right. He’d promised that he’d be with her in the birthing chamber no matter what the maester said. Lady Stark had said that he’d just be in the way and that it was best for him to wait outside, but Deirdre had argued that she’d want Robb with her. Right now, she’d be happy simply to have Lady Stark with her, but her goodmother was dead, and wouldn’t ever hold her grandchild. But she couldn’t think about that now, or about the others who would never leave the Twins again. Deirdre didn’t have the strength to mourn them right now, and she had to focus on bringing her babe into the world. _Robb will find his way to us. He must._

 

At least Jon would be there at Castle Black. She didn’t know how he’d feel about her arrival, but knowing he’d be there soothed her. Jon would never allow anything to happen to her or her babe, and it would be so sweet to see him again after all this time.

 

The final hours of the journey seemed to pass in one continuous stream of pain for Deirdre. She felt like the babe was trying to claw his way into the world and all she could think about was the hurt.

 

When they drew closer to Castle Black, she could hear her guards exchange some heated words with someone outside the wagon, but couldn’t make out what was being said or to whom.

 

“Adair, stay with the queen,” Dacey commanded, jumping out of the wagon as it rolled to a stop.

 

“Why are we stopping?” Deirdre sobbed, clutching Adair’s arm. “Is it Robb?”

 

“No, some of the black brothers are talking to Dacey, is all. It won’t be long now,” Adair promised her. “We can’t let anyone know who you are though, remember Your Grace?” She nodded, trying again to bite back her cries of pain. Her child was anxious to be born.

 

She could hear Dacey speaking determinedly outside. “I am Dacey Mormont of Bear Island. We’re here to see my lord uncle. Please summon your Maester at once: my friend is with child and her time is near. She cannot wait long.”

 

“Your uncle’s not here and we can’t let you come in. Can’t you see we’ve just done battle here? This is no place for birthing babes.” a voice answered back.

 

“Unless you know how to deliver a child, I suggest you get your Maester, boy. We’re coming in one way or another,” Ned yelled. “And find Jon Snow.”

  
Adair helped her out of the wagon, and Deirdre barely had time to take in their surroundings before she stumbled forward to her knees. Ned swept her up into his arms and the motion, coupled with an intense birthing pain, made her world go black.

 

x-x-x

 

“Maester, she’s waking up,” a man’s voice said.

 

“Your Grace?” Dacey hand was cool against her skin. “Maester Aemon is going to take care of you now.”

 

“Where’s Robb?” she whispered.

 

“He’s not here,” Dacey replied softly. “We need you to focus on the babe now.”

 

“Jon? Is he here?” Deirdre pleaded. She didn’t care if it was normal to have a man with her in the birthing chamber. She wanted Robb and if not Robb, she wanted his brother; someone she knew loved her and who would love this child, someone with Stark blood.

 

“I’ll go find him myself, Your Grace. I met him before at Winterfell, so hopefully he’ll remember me. Ned is right outside the door if you need anyone,” Dacey said, and left the room briskly.

 

“Your Grace, I’m Maester Aemon,” an old man said then, taking her hand between his. His sightless eyes stared at a place somewhere above her head, but his hands were gentle.

 

“Please call me Deirdre. I don’t mean to be unkind, but how will you be able to help me if you’re blind?” she asked hesitantly.

 

“I haven’t done this in some time, but I don’t think anything has changed,” the old maester said with a smile. “I know you’re frightened and in pain, but I’ll take good care of you. After the journey you’ve had, this should be relatively simple. Here, this is dreamwine. It will help with the pain.” He handed her a small cup.

 

The boy with them was staring at her as if he’d never seen a woman with child before. She’s was about to birth her babe in a place where only men lived, with a blind maester and a green boy who looked half-terrified at the sight of her as her help. She might have laughed if she hadn’t been in so much pain. _It won’t be long now. Oh Robb._

 

x-x-x

 

The last embers had burnt out, but Jon Snow remained where he was, where he’d been standing for hours. Ygritte’s face would not leave his mind, and if he listened hard enough, he could hear her laughing. They’d burned the bodies of the other wildings as well, but Jon had insisted that Ygritte be left to him and him alone. He didn’t want his brothers to watch, and she deserved for him to attend her himself, not leaving it to one of the other crows or throwing her haphazardly in with other wildlings. She deserved her own fire and he had remained with her until the last light had gone out. _Kissed by fire. It had glimmered as brightly as her hair had done._

 

She was gone. His brothers were dead as well, at the hand of Theon Greyjoy, whom he had sparred with every day, whom he would glare at when the older boy smiled at the wrong thing and made some poor jest about a serving girl. Winterfell was no more. His childhood home was a shell, blackened by fire and treachery. The thick walls he remembered had seemed impermeable, the ancient stone as comforting and shielding as the guards who stood sentry at every entrance, and now that proud castle lay in ruins if the tales were true. Robb was at war, Sansa a captive in King’s Landing, and no one knew where Arya was. Father was dead, his bones lost, no doubt long abandoned in some southern ditch by those chosen to bear them north. And Uncle Benjen was lost as well, most likely lying in a frozen grave. Even Ghost was gone. The life he had known, the family he had loved, was gone. Many of his black brothers had died during the battle, and they’d have to burn them too, to keep them from coming back. Part of Jon had died out there, too, he realized. He’d never been so alone in his life.

 

x-x-x

 

Jon was a sight to behold when he re-entered the training yard, covered in blood and soot, exhausted, and favoring his uninjured leg. He wanted nothing more than to bathe and then sleep until the events of the last few moons were nothing more than faded memories. He was surprised to find a tall, slender, dark-haired woman in leather and mail in the yard, even more so when he saw that she was striding in his direction.

 

“Jon Snow, I’m Dacey Mormont,” she said quickly once she’d reached him. “You must come with me.” _Mormont?_

 

Without waiting for an answer, she turned and stalked back in the direction from which she’d come, heading towards the part of the castle that remained undamaged. Jon followed her, wondering why the Mormont heir herself was here and looking for _him_. Had no one told her of her uncle’s death? But she was heading to some of the men’s chambers, not her uncle’s former quarters. He was startled to see Northmen guarding the door, and recognized the sigils of Houses Tallhart and Manderly. _Had Robb come?_

 

“What’s happened?” he asked as he followed her through the door. There were two further guards within, one young man bearing the familiar grey direwolf of House Stark, though his face was not one that Jon knew, and a tall man the sigil of House Wull emblazoned on his tunic. He wondered briefly at this assortment of Northmen: he hadn’t seen a man from the mountain clans since he was very small.

 

Then he heard it. A woman’s scream pierced the room and his heart froze in his chest as he realized who it was. _Deirdre_. He pushed past the guards until he saw her, belly huge with child and clearly in distress.

 

“Jon,” she cried out, reaching for him. He rushed to her side and cupped her face in his hands tenderly, wiping a tear away with his thumb. She reached up and grasped his wrists, closing her eyes, and inhaling deeply.

 

“How are you here?” he asked, his mind unable to comprehend her presence. “Where’s Robb?”

 

Before she could answer, another pain hit her and she cried out again, clutching his arm tightly. He reached down to take her hand, glancing at Dacey in confusion. When Deirdre fell silent again, the other woman spoke softly.

 

“The king, most of his bannermen and their men attended the wedding of Edmure Tully and Roslin Frey at the Twins, a way to make peace between the king and the Freys. After the bedding, the Freys slaughtered every Northmen they could, though we were unarmed. The queen had been left behind in the camp with the rest of the men, and we were able to escape with her in the chaos of the attack. His Grace, your brother had instructed us to take her to the Wall were anything to happen to him…” Dacey paused, swallowing hard. “He knew, if he fell, his child would be hunted down even if they had to rip it from her womb.”

 

“Robb isn’t dead,” Deirdre replied, her gaze determined. “He can’t be. I would _know_ if he were dead!”

 

Dacey looked pained before she continued, “Lady Catelyn, most of King Robb’s bannermen and their men are dead. It is _possible_ that the king is dead as well. The survivors are either captives or scattered to the wind, my lord. House Bolton has betrayed us and we suspect that Tywin Lannister may have had a hand in this.”

 

Jon could barely think straight, much less speak. His brother could be dead? _Robb…_ He mustn’t think on that now, not with Deidre and her impending birth. What madness had driven Robb to send her to the Wall of all places? Deirdre squeezed his hand again and he looked at her.

 

Spying the maester, Jon asked, “Maester Aemon, can you deliver this baby?”

 

“I was trained to. But that was decades ago, although it’s done the same way I’m sure. Obviously, I haven’t had many occasions to deliver babes at Castle Black,” Aemon admitted.

 

“I’ll fetch Pyp and the midwife from Mole Town,” Jon replied. To Dacey, he said, “Does anyone else know of her whereabouts, or is she presumed dead as well?”

 

“We were pursued a few times that night, so they know she survived the attack at the Twins. But we haven’t seen anyone since we reached Greywater Watch, thank the gods.”

 

Jon took a wet cloth from Aemon and wiped Deirdre’s brow. He couldn’t think about Robb now. He’d push away that grief until later, after his brother’s child was born. Glancing down, he realized again how filthy he was, and moved away from the bed. He didn’t want to get blood or dirt on Deirdre or the babe, not when they were so vulnerable.

 

“Deirdre, I must clean myself before I can help you further. I’ll return with some help. I won’t be gone long,” he promised her, gently kissing her forehead. She nodded silently, reluctant to release his hand.

 

As he tore across the yard to his chambers, he considered what he’d seen and learned, and his thoughts turned to Deidre. While she was still beautiful, she had a distant, haunted look to her, and sorrow hung about her like a mantle. She had been at Robb’s side throughout this entire war, a war that had placed her against her own family. Jon had no idea what she’d witnessed, who she had mourned, but he knew what he’d lost himself, and wondered if she could bear the pain of the grief. And now she was here at the Wall, one of the most dangerous places in Westeros, with Mance Rayder’s wildlings soon to attack. Jon had no place to send her, and knew whoever had planned the attack on his brother would be coming for her and the child. He would be damned if he’d let them come to harm, however, brother of the Night’s Watch or not.

 

Washing himself as quickly as he could and donning clean clothes, he went to find Pyp and the people from Mole Town. Castle Black remained frenzied and disordered after the battle with the Thenns, so it took him longer than he would have liked. When he finally found Pyp, he explained the basics of what was happening and Pyp helped him find the midwife, an older, squashy woman called Gin. The three of them made their way to the chambers where he’d left Deirdre, and were stopped by two new guards, both from House Umber. The guards eyed Pyp and Gin suspiciously.

 

“I’m Jon Snow and they’re here to help,” Jon explained and the guards looked skeptically at the other.  “She’s a midwife.”

 

“Lady Mormont ordered that no one be allowed save you or herself, my lord,” the older guard said. Turning to his companion, he ordered him to check with her. When the younger guard hurried off, the man introduced himself as Robert Umber.

 

As annoyed as Jon was at the delay, he was glad to see that the guards appeared loyal and protective of Deirdre. He wasn’t surprised. Robb wouldn’t have entrusted her safety to simply anyone.

 

 _Ah, but the camp was attacked from within_. Robb _had_ trusted the wrong people, much like their father before him. Jon studied the guard for a moment.

 

“Do you think my brother is dead?” he asked quietly.

 

Robert hesitated, then nodded slowly. “The queen believes that he lives because we haven’t told her the truth, and have kept any details of his body from her. My lord, she was so close to her time that we feared she’d lose the child. Most of the Northmen were dumped in the river. We just told her there are no bodies to find. Lord Edmund Tully was taken captive, as was our lord, the Greatjon. They slaughtered his son at the feast.”

 

“ _What_ details of Robb’s body?” Jon asked curtly, feeling as though a giant had driven a sword through him. There was an odd ringing in his ears. “And I am no lord.” It seemed important that the man understand that for some reason. His brother was dead. _Robb._

 

“Begging your pardon, my lord,” the man glanced away, his jaw tightened in anger. It took him a moment to collect himself. “They cut him down during the feast, and afterwards, when he was already dead, beheaded him. They sewed his wolf’s head in place and put a crown on it as a final insult.”

 

Stepping back and clutching the railing so hard he almost splintered the worn wood, Jon felt his rage boiling within him. He couldn’t breathe. He wanted to scream and tear down those godforsaken towers, destroy every last man who’d had a hand in taking his family from him. Robb’s face flashed across his mind, and Jon saw him as he’d appeared when they’d said goodbye in the training yard, cheeks flushed from the cold and snowflakes melting in his auburn curls. _I’ll never see him again._

 

But he couldn’t lose control now. He had to smother all of that until Deirdre and Robb’s child was born, however much he wanted to kill something. There would be time enough to rage at the gods for taking his family from him, for taking his brother. Jon felt Pyp’s hand grip his shoulder and he was at once grateful and guilty for his brothers here. 

 

“I’m sorry, my lord,” Robert said. “We all mourn his loss, but not nearly as much as his brother must. The king knew the queen would be safest with you. We know you two must have been close.” Jon could sense the man was near to tears himself when he added, “He loved her more than anything…his final words to Dacey were to get her to you for protection.”

 

Jon didn’t trust himself to speak. After a few minutes of silence, the younger guard, Daryn, returned and let Jon pass with Gin and Pyp behind him. Deirdre was writhing in pain as Dacey held her hand. Jon took a place on the other side of her.

 

“I think this babe is ready to join us,” Maester Aemon told him. “Her pains are frequent enough. It must be time.”

 

Deirdre let Gin examine her, while Jon moved to cradle her face in his hands. He’d never seen a woman in such pain, even Ygritte when she lay dying. _I mustn’t think of that now._ He tried to distract her from it. “It won’t be long now,” he promised, stroking her hair back. “What do you plan to name the babe?”

 

“Brandon or Lyanna,” she answered weakly. “Robb wanted to name him after your father, but then said that every generation of Starks had a Brandon.” As another pain wracked her body, she cried out for what seemed like the hundredth time. “Jon, I can’t do this. It’s too much. I feel like he’s ripping me in half.”

 

“The babe is ready to come out now,” Gin said to him. “But she’s going to have to push.”

 

Jon glanced from Gin back to Deirdre and had a thought. “Help me,” he said to Dacey as he climbed onto the bed with Deirdre, careful not to set her on his injured leg. “Let me get behind her.”

 

Dacey helped Jon situate Deirdre so her upper back rested against his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, grabbing her hands. “Deirdre, you need to push now. I’m going to help you. Just bear down on my hands and push as hard as you can.”

 

“I can’t, Jon. I’m too tired. I need Robb,” she sobbed and Jon shook his head at her.

 

“You _must_. You’re stronger than you realize, sweetling, so I need you to do this. Do this for Robb. And do it for Bran, Rickon, and my father. Do it for the North and for House Stark, _your_ house,” he soothed, wiping her hair from her face. “You’re the only one who can do this.” His voice was thick with unshed tears. His heart felt torn in half as he watched her struggle to push, and he tried to help her as much as he could. She squeezed his hands until they went numb, and he continued to wipe the sweat from her brow, lending her his strength as she struggled to push.

 

“I see the head,” Gin exclaimed loudly.

 

“That is a Stark, so it will be a hard head,” Jon replied and even Deirdre smiled slightly.

 

A few more pushes and a scream that was probably heard by the Wildlings beyond the Wall, and the babe was pulled from Deirdre. At the babe’s angry cry, Gin pronounced. “It’s a boy. He’s beautiful.”  She cleaned him off and wrapped him in a fur.

 

Deirdre rested back against Jon, tears running down her face. “Is he healthy?”

 

“He’s a tiny thing, but he has all his fingers and toes. And a good set of lungs as well,” Gin grinned as she handed him to Deirdre.

 

Jon stared in wonder. He kissed Deirdre’s forehead and whispered, “You did it. Another red-headed Stark is born.”

 

The baby had red hair that wasn’t quite the dark auburn of Robb’s hair nor the color of Sansa’s or Lady Catelyn’s. His hair was a little more golden, and he had bright green eyes already, which he struggled to keep open as Deirdre held him closely.

 

“He’s so beautiful,” Deirdre said, stroking her fingers down his cheek. “My sweet Brandon. Robb will adore him.”

 

“The King in the North,” Dacey whispered as she took in the baby, but Deirdre shook her head.

 

“The prince, while his father lives,” Deirdre corrected her. Jon saw the grief etched across Dacey’s face before she was able to school her features again. Deirdre thankfully hadn’t noticed.

 

Suddenly Deirdre cried out again, startling everyone. Jon quickly took the babe and pushed him at Dacey.

 

“What’s wrong with her?” Jon shot at Gin. Deirdre stiffened in his arms and grabbed his scarred hand tightly as she sobbed.

 

“There’s another babe,” Gin said in surprise. 

 

“King Robb warned you it would be twins,” Dacey said, with a little smile.

 

“You couldn’t have warned us?” Jon glared at her before focusing on Deirdre again, whispering words of encouragement and ignoring her nails in his skin. This babe took longer to birth, but Gin pulled it from her at last, and Deirdre collapsed against him. The room was silent save for her labored breathing and Jon saw the worry in Gin’s wrinkled features. Pyp was looking at the baby strangely, then glanced up at Jon.

 

“What is it?” Jon asked quietly.

 

“Sometimes you have to encourage them. Slap his bottom,” the maester explained. “Do it now!”

 

Gin did as he ordered and after the second slap, the babe wailed, much to everyone’s relief. Gin cleaned the babe and passed him to Pyp who looked at it like it would bite him at first. But he grinned at Jon after a moment.

 

“Is it another boy?” Deirdre asked faintly. “Robb also said there would be two sons.”

 

“Yes, it’s a boy,” Pyp answered. “This one’s got dark hair. He…he looks like you, Jon!” He held the babe up for Jon’s inspection, and Jon’s heart almost stopped when Pyp nearly dropped him. Swiftly relieving him of his burden, Jon looked down at the babe. After a moment, he explained, “He looks like my father and my uncle, a true Stark in coloring.” He showed the boy to Deirdre with a smile. “But he has Robb’s eyes.”

 

“We didn’t discuss other names for boys even though Robb suspected there were going to be two of them. I just assumed he’d be with me,” Deirdre whispered, glancing up at Jon.  “I don’t know what he’d want to name him. After your father? But Robb thought perhaps Sansa would want her first boy to be named Eddard. It seems selfish to take that from her.”

 

“I’m assuming you don’t want to name him after your side of the family,” Jon said and Deirdre quickly shook her head. “Then Robb would want to honor the Starks. Or you could name him Robb,” Jon pointed out but after a moment she shook her head again. “Rickon was named for my lord grandfather.”

 

“I don’t know the Stark names. You should name him,” Deirdre said.  “You would know better than I which Stark Robb would want to honor.”

 

Jon looked over the babe for a moment. He was even smaller than Brandon and very quiet, but his blue eyes seemed to study Jon although he knew that the child was too young to actually focus on him. He reminded him of another Stark in that moment and Jon kissed his forehead. “Benjen, after our uncle.”

 

“Robb would like that,” Deirdre answered weakly.  “It seems fitting that Benjen be born at the Wall.”

 

“Maester, she’s bleeding quite a bit,” Gin said.

 

Jon refocused on Deirdre’s face. She was pale as a ghost and her lips hardly had any color to them. Cradling Benjen carefully against him, Jon moved from behind Deirdre to sit beside her.

 

“We must give her some callicarpa leaf tea,” Maester Aemon said as he felt around his shelves.

 

As Gin worked to brew the tea, Jon kept an eye on Deirdre. Her eyes fluttered shut more than once. She looked at him suddenly and whispered, “Promise me you’ll take care of them, Jon, until Robb comes for them.”

 

“You’re going to be fine,” Jon replied and lowered his face until their eyes were level. He stroked her hair gently. “I’m not going to let anything happen to your sons _or you_.”

 

“Promise me,” she urged, tears welling in her eyes.

 

“I promise.” Jon nodded.

 

Brandon started to cry and Deirdre clutched Jon’s arm in panic. “Who will nurse them? You’ve no wet nurses here.”

 

“You’ll nurse them. You’re going to be all right,” Maester Aemon said, handing Jon the tea and pressing his hands against Deirdre’s face. “She’s not feverish, so she simply needs to rest.”

 

Gin took Benjen so Jon could help Deirdre drink the tea. He was relieved when her lips gained some color. She was still weak, but the bleeding had slowed to a normal level according to Gin, and she delivered the afterbirth without incident. The maester reiterated that as long as she wasn’t feverish, she shouldn’t be in danger. Deirdre insisted on nursing the babies as soon as she could sit up, so Jon helped her to hold them while she did. Pyp left to give her privacy but if anyone thought her lack of modesty around Jon was strange, they didn’t remark on it. Dacey remained at Deirdre’s side even after the babes had fed, and both of the guards positioned outside as well as the ones from earlier came in to see, smiling at the sight of the two of them. Dacey cradled a sleeping Benjen with a look of slight awe, and while Brandon slept peacefully in his mother’s arms. The oldest Mormont sister’s loyalty reassured Jon, but he wasn’t surprised. The Lord Commander had spoken highly of his nieces.

 

“Jon, Dacey and the men have been up with me for two days, will you please find them a safe place to sleep before you rest yourself?” Deirdre asked, voice drowsy.

 

“I’ll stay with you, Your Grace,” Dacey replied.

 

“No, you won’t. I insist that you get some rest. There are guards outside the door,” Deirdre responded firmly, glancing at Jon. “Jon, please?”

 

“I’ll find her and your men some chambers close by. And Lady Mormont, I’ll stay with Deirdre and the babes tonight,” Jon said, wrapping Brandon in another fur before taking Benjen from Dacey to lay him down beside his brother. Pyp had found a basket big enough for the two of them and had filled it with blankets and furs, placing it at Deirdre’s bedside.

 

“Jon, you need _your_ rest, as well. You’ve done battle and Maester Aemon said you’re still healing.” Deirdre looked up at him, eyes pleading. “Please, I’ll be fine. Don’t fuss over me.”

 

“I insist,” Jon answered. “I’ll make a pallet on the floor. Don’t worry yourself, I’ll sleep.”

 

Deirdre smirked at him and said, “I’m Queen in the North, you know. I could command…”

 

“And you know me, I wouldn’t listen, queen or no,” Jon returned her smirk with one of his own, and he kissed Deirdre on forehead and took in the sight of her and her sleeping babes. For the first time that evening, she looked untroubled.


	10. Chapter 10

 

 

 

_A/N Thank you to[Auria](../../../users/Auria) for the beta! _ _Thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback!_

**Chapter 10**

After settling Dacey and the other Northern soldiers in their chambers, Jon stopped by the kitchen to arrange food for Deirdre and himself, and have some sent to her men. He returned to Deirdre’s chambers and encountered no resistance from the guards this time. Both were Umber men and reminded him a bit of the Greatjon and his son. Tall and thickly-muscled, one was close to Jon’s father’s age and the other likely ten years older than Jon. He found the young guard from House Wull inside the doorway. He reminded Jon of Jory in many ways, as Jory might have been at Jon’s age, only taller: handsome, with thick, dark, wavy hair that fell to his shoulders and a light beard. His dark eyes studied Jon intently, sizing him up, perhaps wondering if he were worthy of the trust Robb had put in him. He’d appeared to be fiercely loyal to Deirdre from what Jon had seen earlier, and he could tell that the young man knew his way around the sword at his hip. After a moment, the man nodded and stepped outside. Gin had replaced the bedding and even found Deirdre a clean tunic to sleep in. Deirdre looked to have drifted off, so Jon ate quietly before putting together a pallet on the floor.

 

“Jon,” Deirdre whispered and he was at her side. “We have to find Robb. As soon as I am well enough to travel, we’ll find him.”

 

“And who will watch your children? Right now, your sons come first,” he replied, stroking her hair. It was too soon to tell her.

 

Tears filled her eyes. “I won’t see him in dreams anymore, will I? Without the babes in me, I’ll lose that bond, won’t I?”

 

“I don’t know. I don’t understand how the dreams work myself.” He rubbed his eyes.

 

“Lay here with me, please? Just until I fall asleep. I’m so tired, but I’m still not used to sleeping alone…”

 

Jon hesitated for a moment. _She’s just had babes and doesn’t know that Robb is dead. Surely a little comfort couldn’t hurt._ He moved to the bed, positioning himself beside her. He tried to ignore the way his heart sped up and his insides warmed. She was his brother’s widow. He’d just lost Ygritte. _But she’s haunted my dreams for so long_. _And she’s here now._ She reached out and put her palm over his heart.

 

“I miss hearing his heartbeat,” she whispered, molding herself to his side. “Yours is different.” She was covered by furs and both of them were clothed, but he knew it was still far too intimate to be considered proper. He just couldn’t bring himself to care much. He needed her comfort as much as she needed his. The last time he’d seen her was the morning after her wedding. She’s been his lover just a few days prior to that. Nearly all of his last nights in Winterfell had been with her, and it was still hard to imagine her as Robb’s wife. He couldn’t think of Robb at all right now, not without feeling as though his heart was being pierced by a thousand knives.

 

“Robb missed you so much. He understood why you couldn’t come. And when Theon betrayed him, Lady Stark was so busy being angry with Robb for trusting Theon that she never saw how much he was already blaming himself. He would have given up that damn crown in a heartbeat to go after Theon, to take back Winterfell, and protect your brothers, but he knew he couldn’t abandon the Riverlands. Lord Bolton was the one who pushed him to let him send his son, but by then it was too late. No one ever thought Theon would hurt the boys.”

 

Jon took her hand in his, offering her what strength he could as she continued to speak. “Robb just wanted everyone home again: Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon and you, Jon. He wanted you together, safe in Winterfell. He felt it was his duty to bring everyone home. And now that home doesn’t even exist anymore.”

  
Jon tried to force away his tears. “I wanted that, too. I wanted to go to him, so desperately.”    

 

“He knew your honor would keep you here. When your father died and Robb became King of the North, his honor forced him to do things he didn’t want to do. He wanted to trade Jaime for Arya and Sansa, but knew he couldn’t. He wanted to go after Theon but was forced to remain in the Riverlands to fight the Lannisters. So many betrayals, so much blood on other people’s hands and yet he grieved for the lives he lost in battle as well: the soldiers who were just boys, some of them, and forced to fight a war, under his command. I don’t know how much you know about what happened in King’s Landing, Jon. Your father found out something he shouldn’t have, something that Cersei has kept hidden for many years and that she couldn’t let anyone know. She and Jaime were lovers, and Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella aren’t Robert Baratheon’s trueborn children. They’re Jaime’s bastards. Once Cersei knew that your father knew, she must have arranged Robert’s death, and then killed your father for attempting to keep Joffrey from the throne,” she explained. She met his gaze then, eyes like chips of flint. “I will avenge them. I will kill all of those who betrayed my husband and the Stark family: the Freys, the Boltons, Theon Greyjoy, and the rest of them. My own family. They’ll all die. They must.”

 

Jon’s blood ran cold. “You _cannot_ intend to be Queen, Deirdre. You and your sons would never be safe. From what your men have told me, you’d be hunted down like dogs.”

 

“You forget how much the Northmen and the Riverlords loved Robb. They’ll follow his heirs until he is found. Once we regroup, I’ll have the support I need. And I can find more still if I have to, even if it means I must court sellswords. The Freys violated guest right. That dishonor will bring me new allies. Lady Catelyn has been murdered and her brother is a hostage, so perhaps her sister may finally be persuaded to come to our aid.”

 

Dropping her hand, Jon sat up abruptly and turned to face her, gripping the furs with white fists. “You’re speaking nonsense. Sellswords follow gold, not promises of vengeance. Were you to engage them, Tywin Lannister need only offer them more. You want to go to war again, even as you lie here having just escaped the last one. Haven’t we all lost enough? Do you wish to die so badly, and take your sons with you? All for your husband’s corpse and a piece of bronze? _Are you mad?_ ”

 

Deirdre pushed herself up, her temper flaring. He’d never seen the look in her eyes before, and was completely caught off guard when her hand met his cheek. She then began to pound on his chest with as much strength as she could. Grabbing her arms, Jon pinned her beneath him, trying to stop her assault without hurting her. Her eyes were wild, uncomprehending, and she was clearly still exhausted.

 

“Deirdre, stop,” he said quietly, holding her firmly. He embraced her tightly, tears falling down his own cheeks. The minutes seemed to stretch interminably as he waited for her to regain some control.

 

“I’m so tired,” she said finally. “I can’t be strong right now. I’m tired of mourning one person after another. And I feel that no one else believes that Robb still lives, that no one else will help me find him. But I know he lives. You’re my last hope, Jon, and you must believe me. If I don’t get him back…”

   
Jon pulled back so that he could meet her eyes, cradling her face in his hands. “Even if he’s dead, you must keep going. Promise me that. Your sons need you. They’re babes, barely hours old. They need their mother. _And I can’t lose you, not so soon after Robb_ so please stop thinking about war.”

 

But Jon also had to survive the upcoming battle with Mance Rayder and find a way to protect her and her sons. Unwillingly, he noticed how her hair still smelled of vanilla and a familiar desire tugged at him. Without thinking, he found himself lowering his lips to hers. Whether his senses returned to him on their own or her light gasp startled him, he’d never know. But quickly, he pulled back and turned away.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, disgusted with himself.

 

After a moment, she spoke, her voice gentle. “It’s…fine. I suppose it’s only normal that you still feel something.”

 

He sat up, his feet draped over the side of the bed. “No it’s _wrong_ , and I don’t know if I still feel that way about you, Deirdre. I just wanted to go back to the way it was. I want to spar with Robb in the yard again and teach Bran how to shoot a bow,” Jon replied, voice hoarse. “I want them all to be alive and in Winterfell. When we first kissed in the Godswood and I felt truly happy, I was with you and Robb and Father were alive, Arya was there and I could muss her hair, Rickon was running wild and Bran…Bran was climbing. I even miss Sansa reminding us of our manners. I just wanted your kiss to return us to that night in the Godswood and bring them all back to us, before all of this happened to everyone I loved, to the life I once knew.”

 

Deirdre adjusted herself so that she was behind him and held him as Jon allowed the full weight of his rage and pain over the loss of his father and his brothers take hold of him. He pressed his face against her, clinging to her, and struggling to hold back the tears for his missing sisters and uncle. He even thought of Catelyn, the mother of his siblings and the wife his father had adored. And he choked away tears for Winterfell, for her people who he’d known and loved. Deirdre held him tightly, crying quietly as she rubbed his back and whispered in his ear.

 

“My kiss cannot bring them back. If it could, I’d kiss you a hundred times. But don’t worry. We’ll find Arya and Sansa somehow. And we’ll find Robb. Together we’ll rebuild Winterfell, just as it was. Robb will legitimize you. You’ll be a Stark and you can leave the Night’s Watch, if you wish, have your own wife and children. You’ll be like a father to my sons until their father is found. Their Uncle Jon will keep them safe. And they’ll love you, as I do, for the rest of your life,” she whispered as she held him. “I’ll always love you, Jon. You are my brother as much as you are Robb’s.”

 

Taking a deep breath, Jon released her, peering at her face for a moment before kissing her forehead. “You’re right, of course.” After a moment, he said, “Forgive me, but I think I need to be alone tonight.”

 

Deirdre nodded, though she looked sad. Jon rose and left the room, not looking back. The guards outside glanced up in surprise and Jon asked one of them to remain inside her chambers, outside her bedroom door.

 

“Jon, this is Adair and I’m Patrek. I don’t know if you remember either of us from Winterfell?” The older guard said.

 

“I do remember you, but I don’t think I’ve met Adair,” Jon said.

 

“I was barely old enough to go to war with King Robb. My father took some convincing,” Adair said with a crooked smile. He was a bit taller than Jon, with sandy-colored hair and wiry muscles. He seemed very friendly and good humored. “My mother took even more.” Jon couldn’t help wondering why Robb had chosen one so young.

 

“I imagine so,” Jon chuckled. “It’s good to see some Winterfell men guarding her.”

 

“Robb chose the ten of us specifically.” Patrek said, proudly. “It’s been a great honor to serve the Queen in the North. My lord, Lady Mormont was looking for you.” 

 

“I am no lord, but thank you.” Jon nodded and made his way to her chambers. He knocked softly in case she was sleeping, but she answered the door, letting him in. His thoughts abruptly deserted him when she slammed him up against the door, her arm across his throat.

 

“I will kill you if you take advantage of her,” she threatened.

 

Jon grabbed her arm and jerked it from his throat, pushing her away from him. “Explain to me what you mean, my lady, and do it quickly.”

 

“I saw you in her bed. I saw the way you looked at her, the fact you desire her. She’s your brother’s wife, my queen, and I will kill any man who harms her, no matter who he is.”

 

“My feelings for her are none of your concern,” Jon said coldly.

 

Dacey came close to him again, clearly unfazed. “Tell me you don’t desire her, tell me that I imagined that look in your eyes.” Her gaze bore into him. “You men are all the same.”

 

“It’s not like that, it’s not that simple,” Jon blurted out in frustration, jerking his hand through his hair. Dacey studied him for a moment before her eyes widened. He felt like someone had punched him in the gut because he realized he'd given himself away and she _knew_ it wasn't desire she’d seen. He quickly added. “It was before she married Robb.  But her feelings for me, if they ever existed, are gone. She loves only Robb.  She and her sons are…all I have left.”

 

“I didn’t know,” Dacey began. “I’m very protective of her. And I know how men are about taking what they want.”

 

“I’m not like that,” Jon replied icily.  

 

Dacey regarded him for a few moments, and abruptly, the fight left her eyes, replaced with a look with which he was fast becoming familiar, a look that was mirrored in his own eyes. She’d loved Robb too, he could see that now. She was hurting, but couldn’t allow herself to be vulnerable when there were others to protect. This nightmare, this grief had left none of them untouched, had left them searching for whatever comfort or solace they could find. She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps we don’t have to be alone tonight…”

 

Jon looked at her sadly. “I don’t think that’s wise, my lady. And I took a vow.”

 

She lowered her hand quickly, turning away slightly as she schooled her features. “Of course. I didn’t mean…forgive me.”

 

“There’s nothing to forgive. Good night, Lady Mormont,” he whispered, looking away.  He slipped from the room before she could reply.

 

On his way to his chambers, he stopped by to check on Deirdre and the babies again. He could hear sounds of distress from the hallway and nearly barreled over the guard in his haste to reach her, but the guard stopped him and put a finger to his lips. Jon glared at him, waiting for an explanation.

 

“She’s been having nightmares since the attack, my lord. If you wake her, she won’t sleep again. I think your friend, the skinny boy, gave her some dreamwine to help her sleep,” the man whispered. “She saw a lot of bloodshed and we had to force her to escape. If she had been armed, she probably would have stabbed me, but I had my orders from your brother, the king, and I obeyed.”

 

Jon stood in the doorway, observing her. She’d settled down now and looked peaceful enough. Approaching her, he stroked her cheek to make sure she still wasn’t feverish. Gin was asleep in the chair near the babes, and before he knew where his legs were carrying him, he was standing over them. He smiled when he saw that they were curled up together and Brandon was sucking Benjen’s thumb instead of his own. He stroked their soft skin, amazed at how much he loved them already. They were a perfect blend of Deirdre and Robb, reminding him strongly of his younger siblings as well. He didn’t think it was possible for two babes to be so perfect, but they were. _Perhaps the gods are making amends for the loss of so many Starks_. Silently, he left them to question the guard again. There were some things about which he was still unclear.

 

“How did you manage to escape? I’m assuming Lord Bolton’s men knew exactly where to find her.”

 

“King Robb insisted that she not take part of the festivities in the camp, wary about how she’d be received. When we arrived at the Twins, he hid her presence from the Freys and insisted she remain in the camp rather than the castle, much to Lord Frey’s disappointment. Now we know why. Deirdre wasn’t in the tent she normally shared with the king. Whenever he wasn’t there, she was moved to a different tent, with only her guards knowing where she was. But a pregnant woman is hard to hide even in all of that chaos, so we had to fight our way out. The king was cautious, but no one could’ve predicted that they’d butcher us like pigs at a wedding feast.”

 

Jon couldn’t imagine Deirdre in that situation and felt his heart ache for her. Thank the gods that Robb had been so prepared. He couldn’t understand why he’d taken her with him to war in the first place, but he’d ask Deirdre later. He studied the guard for a moment before allowing himself to ask what was on his mind. “They said Lady Stark’s throat was cut. They’re certain it was her?”

 

“Lady Stark’s body was left where she was slain long enough for her brother Edmure to see it before they dumped her naked in the river.”  The guard was clearly unnerved. “She’d lost too much in the end, having to watch as the king was cut down not ten yards from her, his men dying around him. They say she was laughing at the end.”

 

Jon tried not to think about Catelyn Stark. As coldly as she’d been to him, she’d loved his father and siblings fiercely, and they’d loved her. No one deserved her fate. Reaching out, he placed a hand on the guard’s shoulder. “Thank you for keeping Deirdre safe and bringing her here. My brother was lucky to have such honorable guards for her.”

 

“It was our honor, my lord. My father fought by your father’s side during both King Robert’s Rebellion and the Greyjoy uprising. He respected him more than any man alive, enough to name me Ned after him.” Ned smiled sadly. “Your brother was my friend as well as my king. And I love the queen like a sister.”

 

Jon looked back to the sleeping babes. “Now you have two new Starks to guard.” He excused himself, intending to get some rest. Once he was in his bed, however, he could not find the sleep his body needed so badly.

               

His family was gone. He’d chosen to remain at the Wall rather than going to Robb and now it was too late to save him, or help him avenge their father. It was too late to bring Sansa or Arya home. They no longer _had_ a home. It was all gone. Bran’s dream of being a knight of the Kingsguard had died when he’d fallen, but now Rickon and he would never even see another summer. They’d never grow up together like Jon and Robb had, beginning every morning in the training yard as soon as they were old enough to hold swords. Rickon would never win his first sparring match against Ser Rodrik. Bran would never learn to shoot a bow from horseback. They’d never have their first kiss or first love. Theon Greyjoy had stolen that from them the moment he’d taken them from the world. _We do not sow._ No, they reaped and pillaged, slaughtered children and displayed their heads on the wall of their home.

 

Theon had burned Winterfell, his home for over half his life. The hall where he’d taken his meals, the chambers where he’d slept, safe and warm, all destroyed. He had been a ward in name, but Robb had always treated him like a brother, and Father had treated him more like his squire than his hostage. They were never close but Father had made certain that Theon was provided for as if he were his own child. Eddard Stark been more of a father to Theon Greyjoy than the man from whose loins he’d sprung; Balon Greyjoy had barely even returned one of his son’s ravens in the ten years Theon had been away from him. It was as though he’d ceased to exist to Lord Greyjoy, yet still Theon had chosen him.

  
Father and their gods would watch over Bran and Rickon now. And Robb. Tears burned Jon’s eyes at the thought of Robb, who’d been his constant companion and closest friend. Who he’d never see again. Robb, who’d risen so high and who was meant to rescue their sisters and avenge their father. Who’d twirled Sansa around the hall to make her smile and who’d perched Rickon atop his shoulders so he could be taller, who’d always been the first to intervene between Arya and Bran when their bickering escalated into shoving matches or hair pulling. Robb, who’d japed with Theon over a filched skin of wine, yet would take the blame if anyone ever caught any of his younger siblings misbehaving. He’d raced through the godswood with Jon, their shirts untucked and their breeches muddy, hooting with laughter until they’d fallen to the ground as one and wrestled, their swords thrown to one side and the sun shining through the ancient trees. And it was Robb who’d held him close and told him he was his brother, whoever Jon’s mother had been. Robb had been the one to try to make certain that no one ever treated Jon badly.

 

Robb had been groomed for leadership and had been supposed to make the north prosperous and strong, as their father had before him. Winter was coming and the north was not ready for it, the people scattered and disordered, weakened by the loss of their liege lords, their men from the war, and now their king. The ironborn had ravaged the coast, would continue to decimate their food stores and murder their people, and Winterfell wasn’t there to protect them. _There must always be a Stark in Winterfell._ But the only Starks in Winterfell now were the dead kings haunting the crypts.

 

_Robb is gone. Robb is gone and I’ll never see him again._ Jon’s tears flowed freely now as he tried reconcile himself with the unimaginable. Robb was so full of life and Jon didn’t want to imagine a world in which he didn’t exist. He couldn’t, much like Deirdre who clung to hope of Robb’s survival with all of her strength. But Jon knew differently than her. He could still remember Robb’s smile and hear his laughter. The last time he’d seen him, he was a man newly wed and snowflakes were melting in his hair. Jon had left Winterfell knowing that, despite his own loss, Deirdre would be loved, would be cared for. Robb loved her. Robb was a better man than Jon, the man she deserved, who could give her everything Jon could not. Robb had made her a queen. He’d made her a mother. And now the Freys and Boltons had taken all of that from her and made her a widow. They’d taken Robb from her, and from Jon. They’d taken Robb from his sons and had butchered his wolf, his other half. His remains would never be honored with the great Stark Kings of Winter. Winterfell was gone, so it mattered little he supposed, but it still hurt so much, like an ache that wouldn’t go away no matter what he did to soothe it. He’d never be able to visit Robb’s tomb or show his sons the statues of their ancestors, place a rose on his aunt Lyanna’s tomb as his father had done for each of her name days. Those vibrant blue roses of winter were probably all gone as well.

 

The births of Brandon and Benjen had filled Jon with so much hope and happiness despite the circumstances that had brought them to him, almost as much as if they were his own sons. And in some respect, they were his children now. Robb had sworn to Jon to if Deirdre had carried Jon’s child, he’d raise it as his own, a Stark and his heir. Now Robb’s sons needed Jon to fulfill the promise his brother had once made him. _The Night’s Watch takes no part and fathers no children._

Men would call Brandon the King in the North. The babe he’d held in his arms, a king before he could walk. Jon had a hard time wrapping his mind around it all. He had to care for the King in the North, a prince, and Robb’s queen. But he was only Ned Stark’s bastard, a sworn brother of the Night’s Watch…how could he care for them? His life here had no place for them. Why had Robb been so foolish as to send them to _him_?

 

_Robb had **no one** else he could trust. I was his last hope._ Robb knew that Jon would never turn them away, would care for Deirdre and her children because they were Robb’s, even if he hadn’t once loved Deirdre. He had to find a way to care for Robb’s sons, even if it meant arranging passage for them to the Free Cities, much like the Targaryens had done before them when men were hunting them. No one would hurt those children or Deirdre if he could help it.

 

As resolute as he was about protecting Robb’s family, though, Jon couldn’t help feeling wholly incapable. He was a brother in the Night’s Watch. They took no part in the affairs of the realm, and let go of their loyalty to their families. How could he abandon his duties here, knowing what was coming, who lay in wait for them? He was honor-bound to defend the realm, and he’d already spent too much time away from the preparations for their defense against Mance Rayder. He shouldn’t even _consider_ leaving his duties at the Wall. He’d remained here when they’d imprisoned and then murdered his father. He’d remained here when Robb had gone to war. He believed in their cause and had killed a dead man in this very castle. But Brandon and Benjen needed him. Could he survive if he let their enemies slaughter them like they’d butchered the Targaryen children? If they were murdered like Bran and Rickon had been, burned and beheaded and mounted at a gate? Robb had trusted him with his family, with all that he loved. Ned Stark had put the realm before his children and died, and his children had suffered for it. Jon couldn’t abandon Robb’s sons or Deirdre to the same, and he couldn’t abandon Sansa and Arya either. If he turned his back on them, they _would_ die. He’d sentenced Ygritte to her fate as soon as he’d left her side, though his arrow hadn’t been the one to pierce her. Was he a man of the Night’s Watch, or Robb’s brother?

 

His mind took him back to those final days in Winterfell. Robb’s wedding had been such a jubilant occasion, a chance to celebrate something joyous after a fortnight in the shadow of Bran’s fall. The sight of Robb so happy had cheered even Lady Stark, however briefly. And he’d been happy, so happy, and Jon had begrudged him every minute of it. The memory of his anger still shamed him. The wedding had been a sham, a sham to protect _him_ , and the bride had loved another, but still Robb had loved her. Jon had seen it in his eyes. And as Jon had seen tonight, she’d fallen in love with Robb in turn. The thought that his brother would never again hold his wife in his arms saddened him more than he could bear. And his sons, his beautiful little boys, would never know their father, just as Jon had never known his mother. It was a hole that could never truly be filled.

 

Furious with himself, he wiped away the tears that had begun to soak his pillow. Jon could not allow his sorrow to consume him. Deirdre was not strong now and Jon would need to help her face what was ahead of them. Her sons needed her. The north needed them. Since Brandon and Benjen were merely babes, it would fall to Deirdre.  He knew that once the grief passed, Deirdre would want retribution. Kind and gentle she may be, but she was still a lioness, and Jon had no doubt that she would do whatever it took to protect her children. Gods help those who tried. He’d have to make certain that she could restrain her need for blood until he could find a way to protect them from their enemies.

 

But first he’d face what lay beyond the Wall: Mance Rayder’s considerable forces, and the creatures that haunted his dreams. That was where his efforts were needed now, and he could not allow himself to think of anything else. _Or anyone._

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

 

_A/N Thank you to[Auria](../../../users/Auria) for the beta! _ _And thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback!_

 

**Chapter 11**

 

They broke their fast on some food Pyp had brought them, after Maester Aemon and Gin had checked on Deirdre and the babies. “Where’s Jon?” Deirdre asked, cradling Brandon to her shoulder.

 

“He’s still sleeping. He was injured the other day, so the maester suggested we let him sleep,” Pyp replied. “How are you feeling, my la…I mean, Your Grace?”

 

“Still tired and sore, but better than yesterday. I was actually able to sleep a little, thanks to your dreamwine.” She turned to him suddenly. “Forgive me, Pyp. I didn’t even thank you for helping me last night. If it hadn’t been for you and Gin, well, I don’t think we would have managed.” Leaning over, she kissed him gently on the cheek, smiling when his ears turned red. ~~~~

 

“Beware, Your Grace,” Dacey smirked. “It won’t do the realm any good to have half the Night’s Watch under your spell.”

 

“A group of men in a frozen wasteland with no women around? She’ll soon have _all_ of them under her spell,” Ned laughed quietly, trying not to disturb a sleeping Benjen in his arms. “You could even take a few for yourself, Dacey.”

 

“Ignore them,” Deirdre told Pyp. “They’re loyal to the core, but sometimes their manners leave much to be desired.” She shot both Ned and Dacey a warning look.

 

Jon came in then and Dacey could see from his face that he hadn’t managed to sleep. He glanced briefly at Deirdre and nodded to her before asking to speak with Dacey. She stepped outside the door with him. “If this is about last night…”

 

“No, nothing like that. We have to tell Deirdre about Robb. We can’t keep this from her any longer and should she find out from someone else…” He ran his hands through his hair. “You’ve been with her for these past few moons, thus have a better handle on how she’s been lately. Is she strong enough to hear this now? We need her to be able to be there for those babes. She can’t fall apart now, not while everything remains so uncertain. There is going to be a battle here soon, worse than the one we had yesterday, and if I die…you’ll need to get her and her sons to safety.”

 

Not for the first time, Dacey wondered if the king had been right to send them to the Wall. She trusted Jon Snow and could see how committed he was to their survival, but she didn’t know how the other brothers would react to their presence once it became more commonly known. Besides, the Night’s Watch had enough to contend with at present. Could they ask them to do any more than they had? Her family had always been staunch supporters of the Watch, and Dacey knew only too well how poorly-outfitted the Watch was. _And now a hoard of wildlings sits at the gates, preparing to attack…_ “We’ll get her to Bear Island, or to the mountains where Ned’s family lives. Perhaps it would be best if we began making preparations now.”

 

“No, the wildlings might still have some men south of the Wall. It’s safer for you here for now. How will she take this? She needs to hear the truth and it should come from me,” Jon said. He was the palest she’d seen him and she reached up to touch his face. _He shouldn’t be here. He can barely stand._

 

“You’re feverish. You should be resting your wound. Allow Ned and I to tell her,” Dacey offered. “She knows us and would listen to us…”

 

“Robb was _my_ brother. You brought his wife to me for safety, and while she’s here, she’s my responsibility.”

 

_Why must Starks be so stubborn? The whole bloody lot of them._ “The Queen is strong, but a lot of her strength came from their love. I honestly don’t know how she’ll manage this. We’ve all been conflicted about keeping this from her, but we couldn’t risk her losing the babes.” Dacey paused, searching for the right words. “There’s something else you should know. We think Tywin Lannister helped them plan the Red Wedding. Someone gave specific instructions that she be brought to King’s Landing, so they’re after her, and will probably keep looking for her. The Imp married Sansa. It won’t be long before they attempt to claim Winterfell and the north for their own, through Sansa if they don’t manage to get their hands on King Robb’s heirs.”

 

She hesitated again. “You should also know that your brother made a will. He wanted you to act as Lord Regent until his heir was old enough, and issued a degree of legitimization to give you the powers and protection of the Stark name.” Dacey reached inside her cloak and pulled out the parchment bearing Robb’s seal. “You’ll want to read this in Maester Aemon’s presence so he can attest to its validity. My mother has a copy of it as well.”

 

Jon Snow hadn’t so much as twitched. His face remained blank, though something flickered in his grey eyes. Finally he spoke. “All of that can wait until later. Right now, all that concerns me is telling Deirdre of Robb.” His voice was soft but firm. She nodded, tucking the parchment back in her cloak.

 

“Gin and I can watch the children. Why don’t you take Deirdre to my room?” Before he could turn away, she stopped him and looked down, suddenly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry about last night, my lord. I should never have been so presumptuous, either about your character or about your motivations. It shames me to think of it.”

 

“Think no more on it. You’re not the first to judge me, my lady, and I daresay I’ve grown quite used to it. We tend to be blind when it comes to protecting those we love. And I am no lord,” His voice was wary, and he moved towards the room then, shutting the door behind him.

 

Dacey stared at the door he’d gone through for a long time. _I told him King Robb legitimized him, and he didn’t make a sound. Isn’t that what all bastards want? But then, the Starks aren’t like the rest of us, are they, and he’s just lost his brother._ Since the wedding, her focus has been on honoring her promise and defending her queen, and she hadn’t spared a thought for how their presence would affect the man they sought for aid. But Jon Snow was clearly as vulnerable as Deirdre was right now, and his sorrow clearly weighed on him. He was just more adept at hiding it. _The Starks may truly be made of ice._

 

x-x-x

 

“Why have we come here?” Deirdre asked, entering Dacey’s chambers. She was still weak and sore, so Jon kept his arm securely around her waist until she was seated on the bed.

 

“I wanted to talk to you alone.” He sat down beside her and she turned to him, reaching for his face and idly tracing a scar.

 

“I didn’t even ask about your scars last night. I once dreamed an eagle attacked Ghost. Or was it you?”

 

“Yes, an eagle attacked me,” Jon said softly. Her fingers were gentle and a flicker of worry crossed her face.

 

“Jon, you’re feverish. Let me send for Maester Aemon. Is this because of your leg? I noticed you limping as well.”

 

He took her hands in his own, studying them for a moment. “Yes, but it must wait. Deirdre, I need to tell you something…it’s going to be hard for you to hear it.”

 

She was quiet for a moment before she met his eyes again, hesitating ever so slightly. “You’re going to try to convince me that Robb’s dead…that even without a body, you all assume he’s…”

 

“There was a body, Deirdre,” he interrupted her, voice still soft. “Your men were afraid you’d lose the babes if they told you. But Robb is dead.”

 

“No,” she shook her head quickly, avoiding his gaze. “Jon, please stop. Just stop! He’s not dead. Why are you saying this?”

 

“I wish to the gods it wasn’t true. I know you loved him, we all did. He was my brother, and I miss him terribly.” Jon reached out and gently lifted her chin until she was looking him in the eyes. “But you need to accept this. You need to focus on the future, yours and your sons’. He’s gone, Deirdre. He’s gone, and he’s not coming back.”

 

Tears filled her eyes and she sobbed loudly. Jon brought her into his arms and held her tightly ~~even~~ as her cries became screams, ugly and anguished and echoing, loud enough to be heard by anyone in the rooms and halls around them. “No no _no_ , please, Jon. Please, not Robb. Please, Jon. _Please_.”

  
He could do nothing but hold her tightly, barely able to withstand her devastation. Eventually she was too exhausted to continue and withdrew, numb, the life gone from her eyes. He wondered if he’d lost her, if she’d gone away deep inside. Her voice was impassive when she asked him where Robb’s body was.

 

Jon swallowed and had to look away. “It’s best you don’t know. It will only hurt you more.”

 

“ _Tell me._ I’ll know eventually and I’d rather it came from you,” she said, her eyes turning to him.

 

“They beheaded him,” Jon admitted at last.

 

She flinched, but took a deep breath. “I want his bones back, Jon. He needs to be buried in the crypts of Winterfell when we take it back. His sons should have a place where they can visit their father.” At this, her voice broke.

 

Jon took her hand and swallowed roughly, saying, “They say that they stitched Grey Wind’s head to his body. I don’t think they’ll be keen to give up his bones.”

 

She didn’t even seem to register the shock as she responded. He barely recognized her voice. “I don’t _care_ what they’re keen to do. His bones belong with his family, not those abominations. Tywin helped plan this. I will kill him myself and sew his head onto Walder Frey’s body.”

 

“No. You’ll be staying far away from both of them. Tywin offered a reward for your return, so he obviously wants you alive, and the north is surely soon be crawling with sellswords and hedge knights craving coin. We need to keep you out of their hands.”

 

“He wants my _children_ , to use to keep the northerners in line. He doesn’t care about _me_. It was only a matter of pride for him, because I was a Lannister, his _property_ , to use as he saw fit. He showed how little he cared for me by continuing to fight that war with Robb, rather than trying to resolve this by giving Lord Stark and your sisters back. We even had Jaime and yet he continued. It’s _always_ about power for him. Cersei may have some of her own, but the rest of us are expendable.” Her voice was angry again and Jon knew he had to reach her.

 

Taking her face in his hands, he forced her to look him in the eyes. “You cannot look back. _Listen to me_. I understand your anger, but vengeance will destroy you.” He saw the defiance in her eyes and knew that Dacey had been right. Her marriage and the war had changed her. “Please, think of your sons. You don’t want to be bitter and vengeful. You’ll end up like Cersei, and you’re better than that. You have a kind heart.”

 

Her eyes widened in surprise and he wondered if she would strike him as she had the previous night, but she merely seemed taken aback. He continued carefully, “Vengeance will consume your strength. Robb died for a noble cause. Do not become a kinslayer or bring a war of vengeance to the north. Robb’s people love you. You can give them hope and restore their lands, or you can continue to bleed them until there’s nothing left. Which do you think Robb would want for you and his sons? ”

 

Tears welled up in her eyes and she nodded, pulling away from him. She took a deep breath and stared down at her hands. “I can’t do this, Jon. I can’t be a mother and a queen without Robb. I can’t allow people like Walder Frey and Roose Bolton to murder my husband and suffer no punishment. I’ve never wanted to kill anyone before, not truly, not every my former husband, and now there is a list of so many who should die. I just want justice for my husband. I want justice for Bran and Rickon, for your father and Lady Stark. But how do I do that: deal out this justice and become a killer without becoming hard and cold like the rest of my family? I can’t do this alone.” _She’s still there. We haven’t lost her yet, thank the gods._

 

“Focus on your children. They’re more important than anything now, including justice. Robb wouldn’t want you to raise them to be consumed with hatred or vengeance. The North remembers, Deirdre. Always. We’ll find a way to do the rest, but for now, focus on Brandon and Benjen.” He kissed her forehead and pulled her to rest on his shoulder. “And you’re not alone. I’m here.”

 

“You’ve sworn vows to _remain_ here. You can’t leave. It’ll just be me and the boys,” she said softly.

 

“I’ll find a way. I know I’ve told you that before, but I won’t make the same mistake twice. I’ll find some way to take care of all of you. I owe it to my brother,” Jon promised. His heart ached for her, knowing that he may not survive the clash with Mance. He couldn’t die yet. She’d lost everything but her sons and him. _I’ll live for them, no matter the cost._

 

Her fingers pressed against his chest, then moved to his neck. “Jon, you’re burning up,” she said, sitting up abruptly, her face full of concern. “I’m sending for Maester Aemon.” She rose and went to the table, pouring some cool water on a rag. Placing it on his head, she said, “Let me see your wound.”

 

“I can’t. It’s on my thigh,” he said, relieved with the coolness of the rag.

 

“Jon, we were lovers. I’ve seen you without a stitch of clothing on, I think I can see you in small clothes,” she insisted, unlacing his breeches.

 

Too weak to struggle, he allowed her to pull them over his hips, down to his knees. She removed the bloody dressing carefully. Her fingers felt cool on his skin as she probed the wound gently. It smelled foul, even to him. “It’s opened and has festered.”

 

He glanced down at his leg to see blood and pus running from the inflamed wound. Deirdre shook her head. “You’re promising to protect me while poison is coursing through your veins!” she exclaimed in frustration. 

 

Deirdre walked to the door and opened it, issuing commands. “Find Maester Aemon. Someone needs to tend to Jon’s wound.”

 

She returned to the bed and forced him to lie down, stripping him of the rest of his garments until he was down to his tunic and small clothes. Covering him with a blanket, she pulled his head into her lap and wiped his face with the cool cloth.

 

“You’re so stubborn, just like Robb,” she said after a moment. “When he was hit with an arrow at the Crag, he didn’t stop fighting, just jerked it out of his shoulder. It wasn’t until hours later when he collapsed that anyone knew he was hurt. Did you take the arrow out yourself?”

 

“Yes,” Jon said as he shivered. “I had to. I was alone.”

 

“Well, you’re not alone now.”

 

_Her skin is so soft._ Shame flooded him. He had just told her that her husband had died, Jon’s own brother, and yet all he wanted was to feel her lips on his. What kind of man was he? His thoughts were so muddled and heavy. He reached out and covered her hand with his own as his feverish eyes met hers.

 

 “I promise I won’t leave you again,” he whispered.

 

“Shh, Jon,” she replied gently, trailing her fingers through his sweaty hair. Had he been feverish this entire time? He hadn’t noticed. “You’re going to be fine.”

 

He didn’t get a chance to respond as Maester Aemon and Clydas swept into the room, followed closely by the Wull boy and one of the Umber men.

 

“Jon, do you remember what we did the first night after you were wounded?” the maester asked, examining his wound carefully with his fingers. Jon nodded. “We’re going to need to do it again. It won’t be as bad this time, but I shall need to drain the wound of infection.”

 

Despite Jon and Ned’s urging, Deirdre wouldn’t leave, even as the men held him down and the maester laid a hot knife on the wound. Deirdre held his hand as he attempted not to scream, and his nails left indents on hers. Afterwards, she left to check on the twins and Jon reluctantly succumbed to sleep.

 

x-x-x

 

Deirdre returned to sit by Jon’s bedside as her sons napped. Gin had assured her that she’d watch over them and let her know when they woke. A conveniently large dose of milk of the poppy meant that Jon was completely unaware of her presence, and she gently ran her hand over his cheek.

 

_He’s the last of Ned Stark’s sons now._ For so long he’d lived in the shadows of his trueborn siblings, and barring Sansa, he was all that remained. It was ironic and cruel. And her children, her sweet babes, were all that remained of Robb. She’d held onto hope, though some part of her must have known. _How could I not have known he was dead? He was a part of me._ But to give up hope would have made his death real. As long as she believed he lived, she could keep him alive. _Oh Robb._

 

But he was gone. He was gone, and he wasn’t coming back. He’d never hold her again, never kiss her or laugh softly as he attempted to keep her in bed in the morning. He’d never look at her from across the room and make her feel that rush of desire from the way his eyes trailed her body or lingered on her lips. He’d never pretend to resist her seduction to see to what lengths she’d go. His arms would never hold her when she wept about him riding into battle, shielding her from anything their opponents could throw at them. She’d never hear his voice first thing in the morning, drowsy and indolent, or last thing at night, as he kissed her and wished her good dreams.  He’d never hold Brandon or Benjen, would never, ever see their beautiful and perfect sons. That hurt so much. Robb had died because of her, just as his father had died because of her family. She had done as much damage to the Starks as Jaime or Cersei, Tywin or Joffrey. _What need had you of marches or scouts, Robb? Your enemy was right here._

 

“He’ll be fine,” Ned said softly from the doorway and Deirdre glanced up in surprise. She hasn’t heard him come in. Tears coursed down her face as she held Jon’s hand tightly, suddenly afraid to let him go.

 

“He’s the last one,” she answered, wiping away the tears. “Ned Stark’s last son. Robb’s last brother. Brandon and Benjen’s only uncle.” She glanced up at his face. “It’s my fault. If I hadn’t gotten pregnant, Robb could have set aside our marriage and married a Frey…he’d still be alive.”

 

“No,” Ned replied shaking his head and coming to stand beside her. “Lord Bolton and Tywin Lannister would have found some other way. He humiliated the Lannisters with every battle he won, and they had to stop him. They were desperate. Your Grace, your love and your sons were everything to the king.” He smiled faintly. “He’d have sacrificed the rest of his years for the one he had with you.”

 

She lowered her head and swallowed back a lump. “It should never have been like this. Good men should outlast the evil ones. Robb was so young and was a good king. He was a great man. He cared for people; he cared about honor and loyalty. And our sons will never see that, they’ll never know how much he sacrificed for them. There will always be that emptiness in their life.” Her eyes met his. “Brandon is King in the North now, Ned. And Benjen is next in line. I feel like they’re being sentenced to misery and death. I don’t want that for them. I want them to grow up and be happy. What kind of happiness can Brandon have? What kind of childhood does the King in the North have?”

 

Ned was silent for a moment before shaking his head. “I don’t know, Your Grace. But I know your love for your sons will be strong enough to—”

 

“Catelyn Stark loved her sons, too,” she interrupted. “She loved them so much, and it didn’t protect them. She had to watch Robb die.” She returned her focus to Jon. “I can’t bring Robb back. No matter what I do, he’ll still be dead. So I’ll sit here and hold the hand of his brother and pray to the Gods that they don’t take him too, because my prayers might still help him. It’s too late for Robb. All of my prayers went unanswered because he was dead all along. I will watch Jon, and I know that no one will hide the truth from me or give me false hope that he’s still out there waiting for me, not rotting away in some shallow grave at the Twins.”

 

“We did what we thought was best for you and your sons,” Ned said quietly. “We didn’t want to see you hurting even more than you were, or see you lose your babes.”

 

She nodded. She wasn’t truly angry about their deception. There was too much anger for other things to feel anger at the few people that were left to her, and she was tired, so tired. She might not have made to the Wall at all had she given up on Robb. But Jon was here, flesh and blood in her hands, and there was comfort knowing he was real. “I just need him to survive, Ned. If he survives, maybe there is hope for the rest of us. Maybe my sons don’t have to lose their uncle, too.”

 

Ned eyed her for a moment, silent, before nodding and leaving her alone with Jon. Deirdre closed her eyes and squeezed his hand, listening to the sound of his breathing, soft and steady. ~~~~

  
x-x-x

 

_"I don't want us to destroy each other," Jon whispered. He stepped further away, turning his back on her._

_Deirdre was quiet as she realized he couldn't face her for a reason. "Are you…ending this?"_

_He swallowed hard and nodded. "I don't want to, but this... this is madness. We'll never be allowed to be together. This will eventually destroy us."_

_She turned around and, with a calm sadness, said, "How many times have you said we couldn't be together? Then you say that I am yours and you are mine, and out of jealousy because you don't want me to be with Robb. You're acting like a child who breaks something so no one else can play with it."_

_Jon turned and reached for her. "Deirdre…I’m sorry. Please don’t go.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into his embrace. “Nothing else matters but us. We’ll leave, we’ll go somewhere far away from here and be together. Somewhere where no one cares if I’m a bastard or you’re a Lannister.”_

_“Yes,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him soundly. “We’ll always be together. I love you.”_

_Jon quickly divested them of their clothing, kissing her all the while, then carried her to the bed. He climbed in beside her and ran his hand over her hip. He pulled her back into his arms and tasted her mouth._

_“You know nothing, Jon Snow,” a voice whispered against his lips and Jon opened his eyes to tangled red hair. He jerked away. “You stole me, then you betrayed me and let your crow brothers kill me.” Ygritte grabbed his arm. “Why would your proper lady want you now, crow? So you can betray her too?”_

_“I’m sorry, Ygritte,” he whispered, taking her face in his hands. “I never meant for you to die.”_

_He heard a snarl and turned to see a flash of grey fur before he felt the direwolf’s teeth in his thigh. He could hear Lady Stark’s voice over his screams. “Everyone knows that bastards are wanton and treacherous by nature, born of lust and deceit.”_

_When Jon opened his eyes again, the room was in flames and Robb was standing there in his armor with a crown of swords in his hands, bronze and iron. Blood ran down his face and chest and Grey Wind jumped off Jon to lay at Robb’s feet. And suddenly, his father was there as well._

_“Jon, you cannot balk now. Do whatever is asked of you,” Father said, an echo of Qhorin Halfhand._

_“Only you can protect the Stark line. I once promised you I’d raise your child as my own. Now you must raise my sons,” Robb said, coming to sit on the bed. “Even if my beloved resists, you must make her see that you’re her **only** chance at survival. Otherwise, they’ll be hunted, they’ll kill my sons.” Tears filled Robb’s eyes. “Don’t let them die, Jon. Please, I beg you.”_

_Father walked closer and said, “We all have to make sacrifices for our family, just as I did, so many years ago in the Tower of Joy. Go back to Winterfell. The girls will return to you, as will Bran and Rickon. They remember the way home.”_

_The smoke filled the room and made Jon’s eyes burn. His leg throbbed, and he was so confused. He felt soft fur brush against him as Ghost lay next to him, lowering his head to his paws. His father’s form grew fainter until he was little more than a shape in the smoke, and then he was gone. A dark-haired woman he didn’t know took his father’s hand. Arya? She reached out to Jon, but Ned shook his head, and they faded away. Robb knelt before a pregnant Deirdre and kissed her stomach, then rose to kiss her lips. There were tears on his cheeks and blood poured from the arrows embedded in his body. Deirdre kissed him, holding him tightly, and they were gone as well. Only Jon remained, alone save for Ghost._

 

Jon jerked awake with a gasp. A candle was lit and Deirdre was leaning over him, soothing him and pressing a cool cloth against his head again. “Your fever seems to have broken.” She smiled tiredly. The dark circles under her eyes showed how little sleep she’d had.

 

“How long have I been sleeping? Did you stay with me the entire time?”

 

“Close to a day. I took care of the twins when I needed to, but Pyp or Grenn sat with you then,” she said. “You have loyal friends. How are you feeling?”

 

“Disoriented. The milk of the poppy gave me strange dreams.” He took the cup of water she offered him. “Have you slept at all?”

 

“No.” She looked down for a moment before raising her eyes to his. “Every time I close my eyes, I dream about Robb in the Twins. Grey Wind’s howls echoed through the camp during the attack, and they’re all I can hear. I thought he was with Robb and so he would be safe, but apparently Lord Frey had demanded that he be locked up. If Robb had known they’d have done that, he would have left him with me. Perhaps Grey Wind could have saved him.” She looked down for a moment before continuing, “All of that howling amidst the blood and chaos…” She shook her head, as if she were trying to shake the memories from it. “I stayed with you while the babes slept. You had nightmares too. You cried out a few times, for your father, for me, for Robb and Grey Wind, Ghost, and your brothers and sisters. Also, for someone named Ygritte.” At Jon’s silence, she asked, “Was she someone you loved?”

 

How could he explain? He’d wanted Ygritte, and in some ways he’d wanted to love her, to chase away Deirdre’s ghost and the guilt of the betrayal he knew he would soon gift Ygritte with. After a moment, he answered, his voice soft. “I cared about her but no, I didn’t love her. Not really. She died here at the battle the day you arrived.”

 

“I’m sorry.” Her hand found his and she squeezed it gently.

 

Jon glanced over at her and reached out to brush the back of his fingers across her cheek. She didn’t meet his eyes. “You should go get some sleep,” he said quietly.

 

“I can’t.” Tears shone in her eyes. “I can’t think of Robb like that again, and I can’t stand to hear the howls. Grey Wind must have known Robb was dying even as I heard it. But he wasn’t with Robb. And I was _so_ close and Robb was dying and I didn’t even know…he died alone, Jon. He shouldn’t have been alone. I should have been with him.”

 

Jon shook his head. “ _No_. He didn’t want that. Even if you don’t care about your own life, you had your children to think about. Robb wanted you to be safe.” He could see that she was too grief-stricken to listen now, so he eased up.  “Would it help you to lie here with me?” he asked.

 

“I need to be near the boys. One of them wakes every two hours wanting to nurse. As soon as one of them finishes, it seems like the other is hungry,” she said, then laughed sadly. “I didn’t know I could ever be so tired.”

 

“Perhaps I can find a wet nurse from Mole Town to help you, after the battle,” he said, trying to clear his own cluttered thoughts.

 

“No, I want to do it. They’re my sons, my last connection to Robb. I don’t want to lose that.”

 

“You’ll never lose your connection to Robb,” he reassured her. “He’s part of all of us. Even your men still love him.”

 

Deirdre nodded slowly. “Let me send for the maester.”

 

“No, just stay with me for a few moments. Rest,” he said, urging her to lie down beside him. They were quiet for a long while before he said, “I dreamed of that last night we were together, but in the dream, I stopped you from leaving my room.”

 

“Jon. We can’t go back…” ~~~~

 

“No, just listen to me. Please. In the dream, things kept changing, so it wasn’t a normal dream. I was in my room at Winterfell and it was on fire. Ygritte came to me, then Lady Stark spoke, and Grey Wind jumped onto the bed and attacked my leg. Perhaps my real pain intruded on the dream then. But Father and Robb were there afterwards. And a woman I didn’t know who looked like Arya, only older. Robb told me to protect you, and Father said we had to go back to Winterfell, to rebuild it. He said the girls and Bran and Rickon would know their way home if we did.”

 

“Bran and Rickon are dead. You know that,” she said softly. “Besides, how can you dream a wolf dream about dead people? It was just a dream caused by the milk of the poppy.”

 

“It wasn’t. I saw a wolf when I escaped the wildlings before the battle. I thought it was Grey Wind at first, but it had to be Summer. The eagle that attacked me was a warg of a man I killed. They’d said that part of the man lived on in the eagle and that’s why he attacked me. What if Bran lives on in Summer?”

 

She was quiet for so long he wondered if she had fallen asleep. When he turned to her, she shrugged. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything right now. I feel like everything I knew and grew to count on has been stripped away and left me raw. If I’d never met you or Robb, I’d still be living a life without love, but then I wouldn’t know this loss and it wouldn’t hurt so much. Part of me wishes I could go back to the way things were.”

 

“But nothing can replace your sons. And you still have me and your friends.”

 

“Yes, but for how long? Everyone I love dies in the end. You weren’t there – I grew to love Bran and Rickon as if they were my own brothers. Robb’s bannermen and soldiers were my friends. Smalljon died with Robb and his new bride is alone now, carrying his child. The Greatjon is a captive. I don’t know about Lord Edmure, and couldn’t say what they’ll do to him if he still lives.  Even Lady Stark and I were becoming closer. I grew to know and care about them, and they’re dead now.” She looked away from him, eyes bright with unshed tears. “And part of my heart and soul died with Robb,” she whispered.

 

Jon didn’t know quite what to say, but tried anyway. “Robb lives on in Brandon and Benjen,” he said, taking her hand. “He’ll always be with you.”

 

“I’m terrified for my sons, Jon. I don’t know if I can do this without him. I’m not strong without him, and I feel so lost and hopeless.” She took a deep breath and met his eyes. “My son is a king. Three kings I’ve known have died in the last year.”

 

Before he could respond, Dacey walked in with one of the bab ~~i~~ es. She started slightly at seeing them lying together, but said nothing. Deirdre sat up and took her crying son attempting to soothe him. “Brandon sleeps less than I do.” She unbuttoned her dress and held him to her breast. Jon looked away and felt Dacey’s eyes on him. He felt guilty, despite the fact that they’d done no wrong.

 

“How’s your leg?” Dacey asked him, looking genuinely concerned.

 

“It mostly hurts if I move,” he japed weakly. “I need to attempt to get up, though. Mance Rayder will be upon us soon, and I have to help the others. Also, I would speak with you, my lady.” ~~~~

 

Dacey helped him to his feet and Jon bit back a moan. It didn’t pain him as much as the first time, but he’d still need his crutch. “Deirdre, go back to your room and try to rest, even if you don’t sleep.” She nodded and he came over to see Brandon. She pulled him from her breast and handed him to Jon.

 

“You seem heavier than yesterday,” Jon smiled, cradling the babe. “You’re going to be as big as Hodor someday.”

 

“He eats more than Benjen. I’m afraid for Benjen,” Deirdre admitted. “He’s quiet and barely nurses.”

 

“I think that’s common among twins,” Dacey said. “There was a pair of twins born before I left Bear Island for Winterfell. One was born larger and grew faster. The other was small and slower to grow. Our maester said that in the womb, one twin is always the dominant one, and that’s how they’d act as bab ~~i~~ es. Do not worry if one grows faster or does things sooner.”

 

“I wonder if Cersei was the dominant twin,” Deirdre said sardonically. “She always seemed able to dominate Jaime.”

 

“Your twins will not end up like them,” Jon said, glancing at her. “Yours will be like you and Robb, although I see a little bit of Arya in Brandon. I think he’ll be a handful when he grows up. Benjen might favor her in looks but I think Brandon has her spirit.”

 

“I wouldn’t mind that,” Deirdre said taking her son back. As soon as she held him to her breast, he latched onto her nipple. She smiled. “Slow down, little one.”

 

Jon kissed Deirdre’s cheek and stepped outside with Dacey. Under her breath, she said, “Didn’t I warn you?”

 

“I’m trying to support her, not take advantage of her.” He sighed in frustration. “Lady Mormont, we have other things to worry about. This battle with Mance Rayder is going to be unlike anything else you’ve experienced. Giants and mammoths, wildlings and the Wall, the stuff of the stories we’ve grown up hearing. It won’t end quickly and they outnumber us a few hundred to one. And there are worse things out there,” Jon explained quickly, leaning up against the wall.

 

“Please call me Dacey. I insist. No one calls me Lady Mormont and if they do, they tend to forget I can best them in a sword fight,” she scoffed. “If the Wall is breeched, what will they do to the people here? What about the queen and her children? Brandon is the King in the North, and he’s only a day old.”

 

“They won’t care if she’s a queen or that her children are a king and a prince, or even heirs to Winterfell and the north. I don’t know if they’d kill a woman and her children, though. I’ve watched them kill an unarmed old man, but Mance would likely spare them, knowing he could use them to negotiate with the northern lords. He knows the value of the Starks, at least. Let one of your men stay with me to keep you updated. If the battle seems lost, you will depart immediately. Make your way to Last Hearth and the Umbers will help you get to Bear Island,” Jon said.

 

“There are a hundred leagues between Castle Black and Last Hearth. If we can reach the Shadow Tower, Ned’s people can meet us there to get us across the Bay of Ice.”

 

“Mance will focus the majority of his forces on Castle Black, but you may still encounter bands of raiders further down the Wall. And I simply don’t know the best way for two newborn babes,” Jon admitted. “You’d need a cart, and you’d move slowly. Let’s speak with her other men. Perhaps someone has a better solution.”

 

As she walked, helping Jon to limp alongside her, Dacey broached the topic of Castle Black’s defenses. “Ned and I noticed that you’re very short on capable men. The queen has ten guards here. She wants six of her men to help the Night’s Watch, retaining Ned, Adair, Robert, and myself to guard her person and the babes.”

 

Jon’s mind raced. Deirdre needed those men to protect her, but the Wall needed as many capable men as possible and these were seasoned soldiers. If any of them were killed, it would reduce her chance ~~s~~ of getting to safety, but if they didn’t protect the Wall, the whole realm’s safety was at risk, including her. He’d have to take the six men and pray that if something happened, four men would be enough to get her to Last Hearth in time. Though he didn’t think Mance would kill a mother and her children, he couldn’t trust the rest of them, Rattleshirt and Harma Dogshead and their ilk. And how likely was it, truly, that Mance would look favorably on Jon’s blood after his betrayal? _That ship has sailed._

 

“We need to hurry. I must meet with her men then help my sworn brothers. We have no Lord Commander now so every man is needed.” Jon shook his head. “Gods save us all.”

 


	12. Chapter 12

 

 

 

 

_A/N Thank you to[Auria](../../../users/Auria) for the beta! And thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback! Sorry for the long delay. I was really sick for a few weeks._

 

**Chapter 12**

 

Later than night, Jon went to see Deirdre and the babes. Maester Aemon had told him that Deirdre hadn’t slept since she learned about Robb, so Jon wanted to see if he could convince her to rest. And though he’d put it off as long as possible, she needed to understand that their situation was precarious at best. Not only did she have to protect her children from Robb’s enemies, which included her own family, Westeros was about to face creatures the likes of which it hadn’t seen for thousands of years. _She’ll have an easy time resting with that bearing down on her, won’t she? You know nothing, Jon Snow._ Deirdre had to be able to face them without Jon, if it came to that. He would protect her as much as he could, but she was not his only responsibility, as Maester Aemon had reminded him.  

 

Jon needed no reminder. He knew he could not be her sole protector, despite what his heart screamed at him. He wanted nothing more than to steal her and the children away from the Wall, away from the grief and pain. And he still had to explain to her what was about to happen, prepare her for what might follow the wildlings. He’d spoken with her guards about escape plans for the northern retinue should the battle go awry, and judging from their disbelief, he’d be hard-pressed to convince her of the truth. Her guards were Northmen at least, raised on these legends, unlike her who’d grown up in another world.

 

Deirdre smiled tiredly when he entered, putting her finger to her lips and whispering, “Speak quietly. They just fell asleep.”

 

Jon stood over the boys’ basket and watched them sleep for a moment. “I’m envious of their ability to sleep without a care.”

 

“They won’t for long,” Deirdre replied quietly. “Soon, the world will teach them to be afraid.”

 

He walked over and sat beside her on the bed, taking her hand. “I think we have awhile before they’ll understand. Time changes many things, we both know that. The things they fear will change as well. In a year, they might not have to fear Robb’s enemies at all.”

 

“Do you think that’s possible?” Deirdre asked, so hopeful.

 

He didn’t want to give her false hope, but he couldn’t bear to destroy all of it. “We don’t know what the future holds. There are people who care and will protect you and your sons to their last breath.” Glancing up at her, he reluctantly continued. There was no more time. “But Deirdre, there are worse things than the Lannisters and their allies to fear.  I don’t want to cause you more worry, but you need to know the truth.”

 

“What are you talking about, Jon? Please, tell me. I’m tired of being in the dark about who’s plotting against us.”

 

“I don’t know where to begin,” Jon replied, brow furrowing. “You’ve heard about wildlings and you know there will be an army attacking any day now. This army may lack the armor and discipline of those in the south, but it includes giants and mammoths, and the men don’t fight like knights in the south. They’re ferocious and without mercy. They don’t follow the same code of honor that—”

 

“Knights in the south can be without mercy as well,” she cut in. “Walder Frey and Roose Bolton’s men proved that. And there is nothing honorable about the way Tywin…” her voice trailed off sadly.

 

“Deirdre, please, trust me. I lived with the free folk, shared their fire and their confidence. Free people are nothing like the people in the rest of Westeros. But that’s not all. There’s a reason why they want to come south that has nothing to do with better lands or climate. They’re fleeing their lands to be on this side of the Wall. They need its protection.”

 

Furrowing her own brows, Deirdre asked, “But if they come south, what is left for them to flee?”

 

Jon paused for a moment. _How to explain this?_ “Did Robb ever mention the Others? Or wights beyond the Wall?”

 

“Yes. Something to do with a tale Old Nan used to tell, about The Long Night. But it was just a story she told to frighten you as children. Jon, I know of the real monsters out there, and they don’t have wings or swords made of ice. We need to worry more about Robb’s enemies and these wildlings, not fables.”

 

Jon’s eyes narrowed and he took a deep breath. His burned hand clenched into a fist. “I wish it was that simple. The stories are true. I don’t know where the Others have been the last eight thousand years, but they’re back and they’re creating more and more wights for their army, an army of the dead that rise at night and destroys anything in their path. I killed one in Lord Commander Mormont’s chambers. Deirdre, you know me. I would never believe such nonsense unless I had seen it myself, felt its cold hand around my throat. We found two rangers in the woods who’d been dead for days, possibly weeks. There was something unnatural about them: their flesh hadn’t yet begun to rot and the horse wouldn’t go near them. We had to latch them to planks of wood and pull them to Castle Black ourselves. Later that night, they rose and attacked us. The one who came for Mormont continued to fight me even I’d stabbed it and hacked off its arm. In the end I set fire to the drapes and threw them over it, praying it would be enough. That’s how I got these scars.” Jon showed her his hand. “Fire was the only thing that worked. I also saw a White Walker at Craster’s Keep. He sacrifices his sons to them to keep them away.”

 

“That’s…terrible,” Deirdre said, voice hushed. “And they intend to come here?”

 

“All signs say they’re moving south, following closely behind the wildlings, close enough to kill their outriders. The wights attacked the Lord Commander’s party at the Fist of the First Men, killing about two hundred fifty men, nearly all his strength. They didn’t stand a chance.” He looked at her intently. “I know Robb didn’t realize it at the time, but sending you here puts you at further risk. If we defeat the wildlings, and that seems impossible with the numbers being what they are, at some point we still have to do battle with the White Walkers. And fiery drapes won’t be enough to stop them this time.”

 

She watched him for a few moments before laughing quietly. It wasn’t a pretty sound. She rose and walked to the table, pouring herself some wine. After emptying most of the cup, she turned to him and demanded, “Is there anything else that we should expect? Dragons? Krakens?” She let out another laugh, short and bitter. “I keep hoping to wake up from this nightmare, but each hour only makes it worse.”

 

Jon took a deep breath and rose, walking to stand before her. “I know this is hard to hear. Older, wiser, more experienced men have already died, and I can’t say how many more will join them before the moon turns. But you must remain strong, Deirdre, for Brandon and Benjen. You’ll have your guards to protect you, and I’ve explained all of this to them already, so they know what’s out there. You’re the one the boys need, though. They need their mother to keep fighting.”

 

“I don’t have you,” she whispered. “That’s what you’re telling me. Robb shouldn’t have sent me here because your duty requires you to be there for others, just as Robb’s did and your father’s before him. It’s duty before all else with the Starks.” She turned away from him, but not quickly enough for him to miss the tears.

 

“I know you’re scared Deirdre,” he said, reaching for her. “You’ve been through so much and must feel so alone, but you’re not. And my duty is to protect the realm, which includes you and your sons. I’m not fighting for power or revenge. If the wildlings defeat us, the entire north is in danger. And if the White Walkers come, Westeros will bleed.”

 

“Do you think it makes it easier for me to hear that Robb’s duties were less important than yours?” she snapped, not caring that her words were unfair.  “I didn’t want that. I don’t want this either. I just want my children to be safe, to see them grow. Is that so wrong of me? Am I selfish to want that?”

 

Growing frustrated with her, he said nothing for a few moments. Finally, he spoke, struggling to keep his voice even. “There’s nothing selfish or wrong about it. It’s not an option right now. You’re the Queen in the North. Did you not realize that came with risks and responsibilities?  There are sacrifices those in power have to make—”

 

“Sacrifices? Have I not sacrificed enough?” She hurled back, turning to glare at him. His expression didn’t alter and she grew angrier. “I’ve lost my family, my husband, my home. We’ve both sacrificed enough. I never wanted to be queen. No one gave me a choice and if they had, I would have declined.”

 

“And if it were up to me, I would let the others fight and take you far from here,” Jon returned. “But I swore a vow, and there are more important things to worry about than ourselves. I just want you to see that you need to remain strong for a time, despite your fears. I’m sorry that I cannot do more for you now. But you’re stronger than you realize and you always have been.” Pulling her close to him, he caressed her face tenderly. “You’ve always been strong. You’ve just never realized it. Your men know it, as do I. And so did Robb.”

 

“Don’t you _dare_ use Robb’s memory to manipulate me,” she answered with a sob. “I can’t be strong now. I just can’t. I’ve never felt so alone or powerless. How can I do this without your help?”

 

He gave her a small smile and wiped away the tears on her cheeks with his thumbs. “You haven’t had my help for a long time, and Robb didn’t shelter you like a child. You’re not alone just because you’re without a husband to protect you, or your overbearing cousins to tell you what to do. I have faith in you, and so do your men.”

 

She gave him a pained expression and turned away for a moment before taking a deep, shaky breath. He could see how hard she was trying to put on a brave face. _Have I been too hard on her? Do I expect too much?_ He banished those thoughts to the back of his mind because they would do them no good. After a few moments, she nodded and looked back at him. “I’ll be fine. I understand your duties here are important. There’s just been so much…too much for me to bear. At times, it becomes overwhelming and I don’t want to have to be strong anymore, even though I know I must continue. If it wasn’t for the boys, I wouldn’t care about being queen. Unlike my family, I don’t want power, nor do I find any happiness in it.  Half of my disagreements with Robb stemmed from my lack of ambition, would you believe? And they call me Lannister!” She giggled slightly, and allowed a small smile to emerge.

 

Jon drew her into his arms and held her tightly. “You’re a better queen than one who enjoys the power. I cannot promise you it will be easy, but I promise you that after this battle is over, I will do everything I can to help you find a safe place to raise your sons.”

 

Deirdre held him close and whispered, “Please be careful, Jon. I cannot do this without you. I need someone who will not think me weak each time I let down my guard. With you, I can be myself.”

 

“You can always be yourself with me. And I wish I could promise to take care of you,” he whispered, feeling a tightness in his chest. “I wish I could promise that it would be easier for us both. But false promises won’t help either of us.”

 

“At least we have each other to depend on now,” she whispered. “Jon…” She pulled back to look at his face. He’d washed again, but his curls were in need of a brush and the scars from the eagle seemed to split his eye in two. “I’m so grateful to have had you with me these last few days. I don’t know how I could have managed without you.”

 

“I was unconscious for most of it,” he said with a smile. “You’ll manage. We’ll get through this together, somehow.”

 

x-x-x

 

“You were with my uncle when he died, weren’t you?”

 

The chatter died at Dacey’s question, and Grenn looked taken aback. He and Pyp had come to see Deirdre and the babes, and while Deirdre rocked Benjen to sleep, the black brothers had spoken quietly with Ned, Adair, and Dacey.

 

The silence continued and Deirdre sighed internally. While she wished her friend had used a little more tact, she understood Dacey had lost so much recently and, while she’d never been very subtle, the events of the past moon clearly had taken their toll. She seemed determined to receive the facts as brusquely as possible, without mercy or the cushion or a kind word. Ned glanced at Deirdre for a moment before resting his hand on Dacey’s back. “Perhaps this isn’t the best time, Dace…”

 

“I need to know. He was my uncle, and I think I can decide for myself when it’s best to know,” Dacey snapped, avoiding Ned’s eyes. Deirdre knew that the pair still held deep affection for each other. Dacey’s apparent disregard for Ned’s feelings in the past had hurt him enough that he was cautious about opening up to her again. But he couldn’t resist his instinct to protect and comfort her if he could.

 

Grenn looked at Pyp, then back at Dacey. “Yes, I was with the Lord Commander at Craster’s Keep…”

 

At Dacey’s nod, he continued, voice devoid of its earlier cheer. “There were a lot of injured men from the battle at the Fist of the First Men. They were dying. Some of the men thought it was because Craster wasn’t giving us enough food, because he was hiding his food from us. He said he had his wives to take care of and if it wasn’t enough, we could go. The Lord Commander tried to get them all ‘ter quiet because Craster wasn’t having any of it. He commanded Clubfoot Karl to shut up. Then Craster jumped up with his ax and told Clubfoot Karl, Dirk and both Garths to get out for calling him a niggard and a bastard, begging yer pardon, milady.”

 

Grenn lowered his head for a moment and Deirdre’s heart ached for him. She could see he’d genuinely cared for Lord Commander Mormont as well. Dacey’s face was completely impassive until Grenn continued. “Dirk killed Craster and the Lord Commander said the gods would curse us, for there was no worse crime than a guest bringing murder to a man’s hall. It happened so fast…one of the men grabbed one of Craster’s wives and Lord Commander Mormont pulled his dagger. Then Ollo stabbed him…as he lay dying some of the men tried to get to Craster’s wives.” He glanced up guiltily. “I tried to get Sam to come with us, but he wouldn’t leave the Old Bear. They were raping Craster’s wives and they had us outnumbered two to one. We fled while we still could.”

 

Dacey said nothing, though her eyes never left Grenn’s face. Pyp opened his mouth to say something, but looked down at his feet instead, helpless. After a moment, Deirdre said, “I’m certain the Lord Commander would have wanted you to escape. You had to return to the Wall to help your brothers.”

 

“He just wanted to teach his men honor and bravery whether they were peasants ~~,~~ baseborn or high-born, knights or criminals. He didn’t care where they came from…he just wanted them to be better men than they were,” Dacey said, almost to herself. After a moment, she remarked, “My king was murdered by those sworn to him and my uncle was murdered by his own men as well. Do men even know what honor is anymore?” She stood abruptly and turned her back to them.

 

Ned shared a look with Deirdre but neither spoke. _What is there to say? Oh, Dacey._ She was jolted from her thoughts by the sound of a horn.

 

Pyp tensed visibly. The horn sounded again and then there was silence. Pyp and Grenn exchanged a look and scrambled to their feet. “Two blasts means wildlings, Your Grace. They’re coming. We need to go,” Grenn explained hurriedly. He turned to Dacey. “Forgive me, Lady Mormont. The Lord Commander was a good man…he shouldn’t have died.”

 

Dacey turned around and looked at him with a slight smile. “If you wish to repay him, be brave and honorable. And kill some damned wildlings. He’d like that.” Grenn nodded and bowed his head to her before leaving.

  
“Be safe,” Deirdre said, attempting to look confident and encouraging. Pyp grinned and wiggled his large ears in farewell.

 

“Ned, go find out what is happening,” Deirdre commanded after the two men left. “We cannot sit here blindly.” Gathering herself up, she made her way to Dacey and laid a hand on her shoulder. “I’m so sorry about your uncle, Dacey. Westeros sorely needs more Mormonts, not fewer.” Dacey nodded, though her eyes never met Deirdre’s, unwilling, as ever, to show what she perceived to be weakness. After a moment, Deirdre started. “I must see Jon.”

 

Dacey held up her hand.  “You stay here. I’ll go find Snow. I could use the fresh air anyway.”

 

Deirdre noticed Brandon was awake again and, hoping he wouldn’t cry, placed Benjen in the basket and picked up his brother. Soon Jon came in, worn, though better than he’d looked before. Dacey wasn’t with him, she noticed, though she dismissed the worry. Her friend probably needed more time to herself.

 

“Are you well?” Jon asked her, checking on Benjen. When she nodded, he sat on the edge of the bed. “I’ve little time to spare. I’ve spoken with Dacey, and your guards know what to do should things go badly. If the Wall is breached, you are to go—”

 

Ignoring his words, Deirdre pulled him to her, her hand on his cheek as her tears fell. “Jon, _please_ be careful. Don’t leave me too. I’ve lost everyone but my sons and my guards. I _need_ you to stay alive. Promise me.”

 

Brandon squirmed and Jon lowered his eyes to him. He gently took the baby from her arms and held him close. “You look so much like your uncle Bran did when he was born.” Jon leaned forward and placed his hand behind Deirdre’s neck, bringing her head forward until their foreheads met. “I’ve taken precautions for you, but I’ll be back. Someone has to take care of you and these boys.”

 

Deirdre wrapped her arms around his neck, careful not to jostle Brandon. Jon held her tightly for a moment before brushing his lips against her forehead. Rising, he put Brandon back in the basket and picked up his brother. “You protect your mother.” He smiled at Benjen, kissing him gently before giving him back to his mother.

 

He walked to the door, paused for a moment, and turned back to regard her. His dark eyes swept over her, taking in her face and hair, then the babe in her arms, as though he were attempting to memorize the image of them. “If the worst happens, know that I love you all. I look at you now and I see how strong you are and how you inspire such loyalty from those who serve you. The north may have named you queen, but it was Robb’s love for you and your love for him that gave you the strength and grace to be its lady. He would be so proud of you now. And when this battle is over, I’m going to find a way to honor his fight and rebuild the north for his sons.” He swallowed quickly and turned away, slipping out of the room before she had a chance to reply.

 

She wept after he left. The thought of losing someone else in her life was unfathomable. When Dacey returned, her tears had stopped, but she still felt the need to speak. “I can’t lose him. He’s all we have left. Lord and Lady Stark are gone and little Bran and Rickon as well. There is no one else to reunite what remains of the family. Robb died fighting to reunite his family. Jon’s the only family left to my sons until we find his sisters.”

 

Dacey sat down and took her hand. “Your Grace, we’ll do whatever we can to help you. We’re not Starks, but we’re Northmen too, loyal to you and King Robb. We will remain so until our last day. No one will harm you or your sons while one of us still lives,” she swore. “Daryn is going to the Wall to help the men and to keep an eye out along the battlements. If he thinks the battle is lost, we will get you and the children to safety. We’ll go across the narrow sea if we have to.”

 

Deirdre laughed bitterly. “Like the Targaryens? Are my children to live as permanent exiles, then? What kind of world do we live in where children must be spirited away from their homeland to survive? When I married Robb, I never thought this would be our fate. Would that Lord Stark had never accepted the position of Hand of the King. His friendship with Robert Baratheon damned us all.”

 

“Lord Stark died because he was betrayed. But King Robb died because he was _winning_. If Jon Snow becomes regent and protector of the north, we can rebuild and begin anew. The betrayal of the Freys and Boltons will earn us more allies. There were some that Robb allowed to return to their lands when the Lannisters were burning the Riverlands, and they’ll be eager to avenge their murdered kin. My mother and Lord Glover are probably already working to reclaim the lands stolen by the Ironborn.” Dacey paused, taking in the faint sounds beyond their walls. “But you and your sons are our priority.”

  
A short knock at the door made Dacey pull her dagger. At Gin’s voice, she calmed and let her in. She’d taken to visiting Deirdre and the babes, so Deirdre had asked her to remain with them. She wasn’t a wet nurse, but she could help with everything else and the children responded well to her.

 

Both Benjen and Brandon were beginning to fuss, so Deirdre refocused her attention on her sons. Gin helped her, keeping up a steady stream of chatter to distract Deirdre from the sounds of the battle, which grew steadily louder as the hours wore on. The children refused to be soothed, and Deirdre thought her ears could take no more. Her hair hung limply in her face as she hunched over a red-faced Benjen, while Brandon screamed in Gin’s arms. _Please, gods, let it be over soon. Let the black brothers win and let my guards rest. Let Jon live. And let my babes sleep. Please._

x-x-x

It dragged on for days. Deirdre drove her men half-mad with demands for updates, but she couldn’t stop herself. Each time it seemed that the battle was dying down, it would rage anew. She rarely slept between her worry for the men fighting and for the twins, who cried incessantly and required so much of her energy. At night, she’d have nightmares of twins of a different sort, could hear the direwolf howling and the dying men scream, smell the camp burning around her. She’d wake to the sounds of the battle outside, men and boys rushing to and from the Wall in their attempt to keep the wildlings back. It continued day after day.

 

Jon would check on them when he could, but most days he’d not even leave the Wall and another black brother would take him his meals. Her heart ached when she’d see how exhausted he was, compounded by fears for her and the babes, fears that somehow a wildling would slip past them and butcher her babes where they lay. She tried to appear brave and hopeful, eager to spare him further worry. He was quiet and withdrawn, but seemed to take comfort from the weight of his nephews in his arms as they slept. She admired his way with them, and was so grateful for the respite from their wailing that she couldn’t bring herself to resent that they’d quiet for him and not her. And they seemed to give him a sense of peace in the madness.

 

When the fighting reached its zenith, she paced in her room relentlessly, despite the attempts to calm her. She knew what was at stake. Her worst fears seemed an inch away from becoming reality.

 

Once or twice, Deirdre’s guards urged her to consider taking leave of Castle Black. Jon’s escape plans were sound, they said, and the risks of remaining where they were too great. She refused each time, saying she’d only go if Jon was dead. She would not leave behind Robb’s last remaining brother, she whispered. But it would be a lie to say _that_ was her only reason for not leaving Jon.

 

x-x-x

 

Dacey woke her one morning, looking worse for the wear. Deirdre couldn’t place her expression. “What is it? Is it Jon?” She sat up quickly, though thankfully without disturbing the sleeping babes or Gin.

 

“It was hard fought, but the wildlings have been repelled and Jon is alive,” Dacey reported. Something in the way she said it caught Deidre’s attention, however. _There’s more to it than that. Gods, please, no._ She jumped up and began to dress.

 

“Your Grace…”

 

“Something’s happened, Dacey, don’t tell me it hasn’t.  I need to see Jon, make sure he’s unhurt. If I keep my hood up, no one will notice I’m a woman, much less who I…” She trailed off at the look on Dacey’s face.

 

Dacey put her hand on Deirdre’s arm. “Your Grace. Deirdre. Jon Snow has been charged with oath-breaking and treason. He’s in an ice cell. I think they mean to execute him.”

 


	13. Chapter 13

 

_A/N Thank you to CalliopeGalaxy for the beta! And thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback! So sorry for the long delay. I promise I'll do better!_

**Chapter 13**

 

 

Deirdre sat down hard on the bed, her hand covering her mouth. One of her worst nightmares was coming true. She was going to lose Jon as well. She couldn’t sit by as Robb’s brother died. A knock on a door made her heart skip a beat until she heard Ned’s voice. Dacey let him in and Ned glanced at her before Deirdre.

 

“I’ve made the arrangements. We’re ready to go when you and the babes are,” he said.

  
“Where will we go? I can’t leave without seeing Jon. I need to do something to help him. He’s Robb’s _brother_ , the last surviving son of Eddard Stark, and you want me to just abandon him?” Deirdre rose. “No. You will guard my children and I will go to Maester Aemon to find out who I need to talk to in order to spare Jon’s life.”

 

“Your Grace, we were sent by our king to protect you and his children, _not_ his brother. I know you care for him as you do all of Robb’s siblings, but Robb died trying to get his sisters back. His brothers died because he was off fighting a war. We’re not going to let you or your sons die to rescue Jon. He has been accused of deserting the Night’s Watch and working with the wildlings. He admitted to me that he  pretended to be a deserter to infiltrate them. I don’t know what to believe. My uncle was his Lord Commander, my king was his brother. I don’t know how to feel about Jon Snow honestly. But Janos Slynt was a former Gold Cloak from King’s Landing, and he’ll have him convicted and hung before he can prove he’s innocent. If you’re here when that happens, Janos Slynt will either murder your sons or sell you to the Lannisters. Jon told me to force you to leave if I had to,” Dacey insisted. “Don’t make me do that.”

 

Deirdre felt trapped. She needed her husband, but he was gone. So she needed someone who loved Robb and her both to protect her sons. If her men or Dacey died, who would keep them safe? Besides she couldn’t just let Jon die. She’d never forgive herself if she did. She didn’t want to admit it but _she_ needed him, not just because he was Robb’s brother. Tears filled her eyes and she looked at the twins, still sleeping.

 

“Where are we going?” she asked quietly.

 

“My sisters are sending soldiers from Bear Island and Ned’s family from the mountains to Shadow Tower so they can escort us back there, if we cannot make it to Last Hearth. You’ll be safe there for now. One of the Night’s Watch brothers has agreed to aid us in traveling the Wall to the Shadow Tower.  You need to dress as warmly as you can,” Dacey replied. Turning to Ned, she asked, “Did you get food and supplies?”

  
“Yes, and I brought this.” He handed Deirdre a sword with a Wolf’s head pommel. 

 

“Longclaw,” Dacey said, taking it from him and examining it.

 

“I don’t understand,” Deirdre said glancing at both of them.

 

“It’s Jon’s sword. It was given to him by Lord Commander Mormont when Jon saved his life. It’s the ancestral sword of House Mormont, Valarian steel,” Ned explained, taking it from Dacey and handing it Deirdre. “He wants Brandon to have it since Ice was never returned to the Starks.”

 

Deirdre looked at him for a long time in silence, before shoving the sword back into his hands. “I don’t give a damn about a sword right now,” she replied with irritation. Glancing at Dacey, she said, “You don’t have to trust Jon, Dacey. You just have to trust me. I know Jon Snow…I trust him as much as I trust you all.”

 

Dacey looked pained but finally nodded. Deirdre continued, “Now you’re telling me that I must leave Jon here to die, travel in the freezing cold across a bloody wall of ice that was just attacked by Wildlings, and could easily be attacked again, with two babes that are barely a week old. You’re protecting my children from slaughter so they can freeze to death. _No._ This is a stupid plan and I refuse to go. If I have to, I’ll cut Janos Slynt’s throat to prevent him from telling anyone who I am, but I will not travel along the Wall with my sons.” Brandon had started crying at that point so she picked him up. “So either come up with a better solution or find a way to kill Slynt. After I’m done nursing my sons, you _will_ take me to see Jon and Maester Aemon.”

 

Dacey opened her mouth to speak but quickly shut it when Deirdre shot her a look like she dared her to argue with her. Gin woke up by the time she had nursed both boys and Deirdre asked her to give her some of her clothes. Perhaps if she dressed like small folk, she would be able to move about the castle a little easier.

 

“Be careful. I will watch over your sons,” Gin promised.

 

Deirdre left all her men and Dacey there, taking only Ned with her to find Maester Aemon. Most people didn’t notice her with her hood up and they found Grenn and Pyp relatively quickly.

 

“What are you doing?” Pyp asked, his eyes scanning the men around them to see if they noticed them. “It’s not safe here. You should go back to your rooms, Your Grace.”

 

“I need to see Jon,” Deirdre commanded and when Grenn started to argue, she held up her hand. “I will find him faster with your help, but do not doubt I will find him alone if I have to.”

 

“It’s best if you just give in,” Ned confirmed. 

 

Pyp hesitated but eventually he told them to follow him.

x-x-x

 

Ned, Pyp, and Deirdre moved through the men quietly. She was constantly scanning the crowd for Janos Slynt, shivering despite all the layers she was wearing. When they reached the ice cells, the guard wasn’t willing to let them see Jon until Pyp talked to him for a few minutes, reminding him of all that Jon had done to protect the Wall. The man opened the door and pulled Jon from the ice cell. Jon could barely stand.

 

“Just her,” the man said and ushered Ned and Pyp out of the room. 

 

It was so cold, Deirdre felt light headed. Jon slid down to rest on the ground, stretching his injured leg out. She saw all the bruises and cuts on his face when he looked at her.  “Oh Jon, what have they done to you,” she whispered, as she rushed over to him, letting her fingers gently caress his face. Tears rolled down her face as she checked his injuries but she saw no deep cuts. Jon didn’t move much, barely flinched when she touched him.

 

“I killed Qhorin Halfhand, my brother in the Night’s Watch so I could convince Mance Rayder’s band of Wildlings that I was a deserter,” he said, with his voice flat.  “I lived with them. I took a wildling as my lover. And I took part in their plan to march on the Wall. I broke all my vows.”

 

Deirdre was surprised but said nothing, knowing there was more that he wasn’t saying.  His eyes caught hers and he asked, “You aren’t going to ask why?”

 

“I knew you’d tell me when you were ready,” she answered, brushing his curls away from his face.

 

“I promised Qhorin I’d do whatever it took to find out what the Wildlings were planning. And I did. _Whatever it took._ But I came back here to warn my brothers.”

 

“Then why are they punishing you? I don’t understand.”

 

Jon laughed bitterly. “Because I killed Qhorin, allied with Mance Rayder and took a wildling as a lover. Honor – it’s what killed my father and the lack of it is what killed the rest of my family. There is no such thing as honorable intentions. It’s almost as laughable as an honorable bastard. I should have taken you from Winterfell rather than letting you marry Robb. Then at least I’d have a few happy years before I died.”

 

Deirdre’s tears began to flow harder as she wrapped her arms around him. “I hate that you came here because of me. I’m sorry I ruined your life.”

 

“ _I_ ruined my life. You just made me realize what it meant to be loved. Or so I thought,” he said, pulling away from her. “I’d been here a month, thinking about you all the time, before I realized I told you I loved you every night we were together, sometimes more than once. But you _never once_ said the words to me.”

 

Deirdre lowered her face and began sobbing.

 

“You never loved me, did you? You had feelings for me, I know, but not love. I’m going to die tomorrow and I need to know the truth of it.”

 

There was no way Deirdre could tell him the truth; that she was never _certain_ if she loved him or if her love for Robb had just grown so much deeper over time.  But she couldn’t let him die thinking that she had never loved him.

 

“I was scared to say it because I knew we’d never be able to stay together,” she replied, being honest, but evasive. “But, of course I loved you. You knew it even if I never said it.”

 

He pulled her face up so she had to meet his eyes. “Say it, just once. Please.”

 

His lip quivered and she wasn’t sure if it was the cold or his emotions but she brought her hands to the sides of his face and kissed his lips lightly. “I love you, Jon.” It wasn’t a lie. She did love him, just not the way he wished she did. Besides, she had told Robb many times that she loved Jon as his brother so she didn’t feel like she was betraying her husband to give Jon one small comfort. And perhaps it was true: she had loved him before.

 

“I don’t want to die. Not like this,” he said, shaking his head. “Not now when I know you need me. Not as a traitor. This must be how my father felt, helpless to protect my sisters or defend his honor. I can’t even try to fight this.”

 

“I’m going to talk to Maester Aemon to see if there is something I can do for you. Perhaps I still have the power to give you a pardon. As the Queen in the North, I must have _some_ power, even here. I’m not going to let them kill you, Jon. If I have to, my men will break you out of here,” she insisted. “I’m not having another Stark die and stand by, doing nothing.”

 

“It’s too dangerous for you to reveal yourself. Janos Slynt is from King’s Landing. He would probably know you on sight. You look too much like a Lannister for him not to realize,” Jon replied, shaking his head.

 

“I don’t care. My sons need you. _I_ need you. If you won’t let me save you because you want to live, let me do it because _I need you to live_.”

 

Jon watched her for a few moments before nodding. “They’ll make you leave soon. May I ask one more thing?” he said, pulling her closer. When she nodded, he whispered, “Just kiss me goodbye.”

 

Deirdre hesitated, so torn. She felt it would be betraying Robb but if Jon died knowing that she had refused one small request after all the hurt she’d caused him, she couldn’t bear it. Jon brought her so close that she could feel his breath on her lips but he waited for her to decide.

 

She kissed him lightly, barely a brush of her lips and intended to pull away, but Jon captured her mouth in an intense kiss. He poured all his emotions into that one kiss and it made her heart ache. She wasn’t sure if it was emotions from the past or how he felt about her now, or perhaps the fear of dying combined with all of the loss he had suffered that made him need to cling to someone familiar. But she felt she was betraying Robb. Never had Jon’s kisses made her feel so guilty. But she’d allow him to comfort himself in this. When he finally broke away, he had tears in his eyes. His head rested on her shoulder and she held him tightly, stroking his hair.

 

“If Ghost comes back, please watch over him for me.”

 

“I will,” she said. “But I’m going to find a way, Jon. You’re not going to die.”

 

“At least, I know my father and brothers will be waiting for me, perhaps my mother as well. Since they wouldn’t let you bury me in the crypts of Winterfell anyway, can you take my bones to the Godswood there if you regain the north? If not there, perhaps by the hot springs where we swam,” he sat up and she saw the resolution in his face. He seemed ready to die and she wanted to shake him, make him fight to live.

 

The door opened and Pyp entered, his face full of sorrow, “I’m sorry, Your Grace, but the guard says you must leave now.” His gaze went to Jon’s and he added, “Jon, we’re going to talk to the maester. We’re not going to let them hang you after you just saved the Wall. If you were a deserter, you wouldn’t have done that.”

 

“Thanks Pyp. You’re a good friend and a loyal brother.” Jon smiled.

 

“We wouldn’t be alive today if it weren’t for you, Jon. You’re the bravest and most honorable man I know and we’re not going to let them kill you,” Pyp said hotly, before leaving the doorway in a rush.

 

“Tell Grenn and Pyp to watch over Sam if he returns,” Jon said and kissed her cheek. “You better go before the guard gets angry.”

 

“I’ll see you after you are released,” she said. When he started to argue, she put her fingers over his lips. “I’ve become very stubborn in the last few months, so just hush. It won’t do you any good to argue with me.”

 

x-x-x

“Maester, you must do something. The Lord of Winterfell carried out justice for deserters. As the Queen in the North, I can pardon Jon,” Deirdre said, in frustration.

 

“I’m doing all I can. Most of the brothers want him pardoned as well, but Lord Slynt and Ser Alliser Thorne won’t listen to me,” the maester said, sitting down, his blind eyes looking in the direction of her voice. “If you pardon Jon, then you’ll be in danger and the Night’s Watch’s vows will be called into question. You’ll be accused of favoritism or worse.”

 

“I don’t care if I have to slit Janos Slynt’s throat, Jon will be freed,” Deirdre rose angrily from her chair. The maester frowned and she knew she had pushed it too far. “Forgive me, Maester. I do not wish to usurp the rules here. But everyone I’ve talked to said it was Jon who held the Wall these last few days. He risked his life to return to Castle Black to warn the Night’s Watch. If he was a turncoat, he wouldn’t have done that.”

 

“Perhaps the wildlings turned on him, Lady Lannister. Or should I say Your Grace?” a cold voice from the doorway said.

 

Deirdre whirled around and Ned’s hand flew to his sword, drawing it quickly as he stepped closer to her. The tension in the room made Pyp and Grenn glance back and forth between her and Janos Slynt. Another man stood behind him and Deirdre said, “Ser Alliser, I assume?”

 

“Yes, Lady Stark. Or is it Lady Lannister? Which side of this war does your loyalty truly lay?” Ser Alliser stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him.

 

“The Night’s Watch doesn’t get involved in the wars of Westeros so that shouldn’t matter to you,” Deirdre reminded him. “As the Queen in the North, I want Jon Snow freed and given a full pardon. His sworn brothers agree as well. Only you and this disgraced Gold Cloak want him hanged. Since there is no Lord Commander here yet, the Maester’s words should be heeded. And if not, then my authority clearly outweighs your own.”

 

“The widow of a dead traitor? Where is the authority in that?” Janos said with a laugh. “Perhaps the Lannisters would be pleased to know where their cousin is. You’re looking well and slimmer that I had expected, considering.  Should I assume that you birthed the traitor’s wolf pup?”

 

“You should assume nothing other than if you touch her, I’ll open your throat faster than you can beg apologies,” Ned growled, stepping closer. “She remains the Queen in the North and you _will_ show her your respect.”

 

“As the mother to the Stark heir and the King in the North, Winterfell is mine, until he is old enough to rule. Therefore, justice for the Night’s Watch is mine as well or have you forgotten? Lord Eddard Stark was charged with this duty. Since he and his heir are gone, it falls on me. Do not _force_ me to assert my authority. Allow Maester’s Aemon and the sworn brothers of the Night’s Watch decide Jon’s fate. They wish him to be released so he will be,” Deirdre answered, hiding her trembling hands within her cloak.

 

“Winterfell is a burnt out shell. The true born Starks are all dead except one daughter and your child, neither of which are capable of ruling. And Lord Roose Bolton is the Warden of the North now, not you,” Janos said coldly.

 

“Roose Bolton is a murdering traitor who killed my husband, the king he swore to protect. The Northmen will not follow him while the King in the North lives,” Deirdre snapped.

 

“Enough.” Maester Aemon stood up and all eyes turned to him. “Kings in the north or south do not concern us. The Night’s Watch does not get involved in these matters.”

 

“No, but Jon Snow is a brother of the Night’s Watch and he’s a traitor and a turncoat,” Janos Slynt said, red faced. “He will hang for this.”

 

“And then I’ll have my men hang you beside him,” Deirdre shot back.  “Or would you prefer the old ways of the North: a beheading?”

 

“Your Grace, could you and your man excuse us? I need to discuss these matters with them. I’ve heard your words and I appreciate your position, but the final decision will be made by the men of the Night’s watch,” the maester said and Deirdre felt defeated.

 

When she walked by Janos Slynt, he smiled. “Run back to Winterfell, little girl, before Lord Tywin sends men to take you home.”

 

Deirdre glared at him for a moment before stepping close to him. “A wolf bites and a lion shreds little men like you. Which do you think you can win against: my husband’s influence or my family’s? I believe you were already beaten by one Lannister half my size that you underestimated. Don’t make the same mistake twice. And if you _ever_ call my husband a traitor again in my hearing, you will find yourself a head shorter. I’ve discovered a recent desire to start making people pay for the insults to the Starks. After what you did to Lord Ned Stark, you’re already overdue for payback.”

 

Janos seethed, but said nothing as she exited, closely followed by Ned. As soon as they were out of hearing of the others, Deirdre turned to Ned and said, “Have one of the others follow Janos Slynt everywhere he goes and if he even thinks to send a raven to King’s Landing, you will carry through on my threat. And send two men to the ice cells. If they attempt to hang Jon, they _will_ stop it. Don’t kill any of the brothers, but you will not allow him to be hanged. Feel free to kill Slynt and Thorne though.”

 

“Your Grace, perhaps this is a lost cause. Maybe we should go to Last Hearth. The Umbers will protect you until we can travel to meet with Lady Mormont,” Ned said, but he quickly stopped when he saw her face.

 

“You will do as I commanded,” Deirdre demanded and he nodded.

 

x-x-x

 

After returning to her room, Deirdre sent everyone out, needing to be alone, and nursed her sons. She had hidden her fear from the others because she knew she could show no signs of weakness or they’d force her to leave the Wall as commanded by Jon. She knew Robb had a will that gave Jon some power to rule as Lord Regent. But Robb’s will was still unsealed in Dacey’s possession.  As Jon was still a member of the Night’s Watch, he could accept no title until the conditions were filled, therefore, she was almost certain she was safe in enforcing her rule. But she didn’t want to show anyone how terrified she was or how weak and powerless she truly felt. Janos Slynt had been loyal to Cersei and Tywin, but perhaps he hated Tyrion enough to cause him to hate the Lannisters in general now. The promise of a healthy reward and possible reinstating his lands and title would be enough incentive for him to sell her out. She was playing a dangerous game and Jon was going to be furious when he found out what she’d done, but at least he’d be alive.

 

“I hope you take after your father when it comes to courage and decisiveness,” she whispered to Benjen. “Your mother isn’t very brave: impetuous, perhaps, but not brave.” Her hands still shook but her nerves felt soothed by her sons. “I wish I could take you both home, but unfortunately, I don’t know where home is now.”

 

Benjen stared at her face, his eyes trying to focus and she smiled. “Your father would be so proud of both his sons. You’re going to be the quiet studious one, aren’t you, my little Benjen? And your brother will be brave and noble, but hotheaded. But he’ll be a better king than that fool Joffrey, a good king like your father.”

 

There was a knock on the door and Dacey called her name. “Come in,” Deirdre said, buttoning her dress.

 

“Maester Aemon said you might be interested to see this message that a raven brought,” Dacey said, handing it to her.

 

Reading the words on the paper, Deirdre felt joy, relief and grief at the same time. She read it a couple of times more but the words never got any easier to read.

 

“What is it, Your Grace?”

 

“Joffrey’s dead. Tommen is king,” she muttered. Dacey’s face brightened for a moment before Deirdre continued, “Lord Tyrion Lannister and his wife, Lady Sansa Stark stand accused of murdering Joffrey though. Tyrion is locked in a black cell, but Sansa seems to have completely disappeared. They’re offering a reward for her return.”

 

Dacey’s face fell again and she dropped into the chair. After a moment, she asked, “Could Lady Sansa have been involved or are they just blaming her for it so they can execute her?”

 

“Sansa was just a young girl with dreams of marrying her prince when I last saw her. I don’t know now. She watched her father murdered by that ‘prince’, her mother and brothers were murdered, and her childhood home was destroyed. Who knows what she is capable of now?” Deirdre said with a sigh. She rested her head in her hands for a moment. “If I thought it would help I would pray to the Seven for guidance, but they haven’t answered my prayers since Robb was wounded at the Crag. And his gods didn’t answer his or his father’s prayers so I don’t expect they’d do much good for me.”

 

“Do you intend to wait until Jon is released to leave?”

 

“I do. I will not leave Jon behind as well. He is the last son and might be the last of Eddard Stark’s children if anything happens to Sansa. I owe it to Robb and his father to protect him if I can. This isn’t about land or castles now. This is the last of my sons’ family. Lady Stark’s kin have disappeared, are dead, or are captives and her sister has ignored all pleas for aid so she might as well be dead. My family are the Lannisters, and Tyrion is the only one I care about. Soon he’ll be dead as well. Jon is all there is left.”

 

“My cousin was sentenced to death by Lord Stark for selling slaves. He escaped to the Free Cities and I do not know what has become of him. If I was the last of my house, then it would grieve me, but do not forget -- you have your sons. If Jon is hanged, we will take you to safety and try to help you recover Winterfell and find Sansa and Arya, if they still live.”

 

“I appreciate your loyalty, Dacey,” Deirdre replied. “But I cannot let Jon be hung.”

 

When the other woman left, Deirdre sighed and lay back on the bed. Between lack of sleep and her emotional last weeks, she wanted nothing to do than curl up in the bed and hide from the world. But she knew she couldn’t. She wished Robb was here. Her heart ached for him. One of his smiles or kisses was often enough to sooth her. But she’d never see that smile or feel his lips on hers again. She thought back to their days in Winterfell and wished more than anything they’d never left. Tears slipped down her face and she didn’t attempt to stop them.

 

x-x-x

 

“This is going to get you killed,” Deirdre argued with Jon upon his release from the ice cells after he told her had to treat with Mance Rayder.

 

“It’s the only way I can prove I’m not a traitor. I _must_ do this,” Jon said and she knew he had accepted his fate.

 

“Jon, we can go now. Let’s leave. Ned and the others can…”

 

“No! If I don’t go kill Mance, the wildlings will re-gather their strength and attack the Wall again. And this time we won’t hold it. You’ve got to take the boys and go now before Janos Slynt has a chance to send a raven. You were supposed to have left days ago,” he glared at Ned.

 

“No! I won’t go. Not until you leave with me. The boys are too young to travel along the Wall anyway. I’m not risking them freezing to death,” she argued.

 

“This is why she’s still here,” Ned muttered. “She thinks it’s more dangerous on the Wall than waiting for Slynt to betray us.”

 

“I trust my men to keep me safe,” she gave Ned a pointed glare. “Leave us.”

 

As soon as she was alone with Jon, she wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. “Please just leave with us. We’ll go to Last Hearth. The Umbers will help us get to Bear Island. Or we can go to the Free Cities.”

 

Jon ran his fingers through her hair gently. “I must do this one thing. And then we’ll go. We’ll go back to Winterfell.”

 

She pulled back to look at him. “You mean I’ll carry your bones back to Winterfell!” she snapped and started to rise. Jon grabbed her arms and kissed her. She tried to pull away but he held her tightly, his tongue exploring the depths of her mouth. When he finally released her, she slapped him.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said, his jaw tightening. “I just thought since this might be…”

 

“You’re the only man who has ever made me confused whether I should hug, kiss, or strangle you from moment to moment. You cannot keep kissing me using the ‘I might die’ speech,” she retorted.

 

Jon couldn’t help but grin at her anger. “Can I kiss you if I say it’s for luck?”

 

“Sometimes I really wonder why I’m here,” she rose and turned her back on him.

 

Jon came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her. “I’m sorry. I know it’s a lot to ask you to understand that I need to do this, to prove myself. It’s about my honor. If I ever want to become a man your sons can admire, I need to fulfill my oath until this is over. I need to prove I’m not a traitor or live with the stain of that for the rest of my life. When the Wall is safe again, we’ll open Robb’s will and see if that can release me of my vows. And I promise that I won’t kiss you again without permission.”

 

“This is the last thing. If you survive this, we open the will and grant the Night’s Watch whatever it promises them so you can leave. If you don’t, I’ll burn Robb’s will and leave on my own, without your say in where I go,” she warned.

 

“I understand.” He nodded then whispered, “Can I kiss you goodbye?”

 

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

 

 

_A/N Thank you to CalliopeGalaxy for the beta! And thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback!  
_

 

 

 

**Chapter 14**

 

Deirdre still loved Robb, still mourned him with every breath, but something made her turn in Jon’s arms and look up at him. Perhaps because she felt it was their final goodbye or because she felt lonely and lost and Jon gave her… _something_. Sometimes it was just easier to not question it.

 

Jon cradled her face in his hands, lightly stroking her lip with his thumb, his eyes watching her patiently. She knew what he waited for: her permission, her _submission_. For a long moment, they stood there just breathing in each other’s breath and awkwardly waiting for the other to act. She hesitated to submit, fearing what it would mean, what it would do to her heart, and what it would cost her. She was so full of questions and doubts it physically hurt her. She drew a deep shaky breath and Jon pulled her closer, his lips almost touching hers.

 

She didn’t know what drove her to do it but she whispered his name then leaned into him, kissing him. He kissed her slowly, gently, and she felt a flicker of the desire she had once had for him burn inside her. It scared her. But it was her that began to massage his tongue with her own causing Jon to moan and bury his hands into her hair. His kiss was so different from Robb’s but she’d be lying if she said there wasn’t still passion between them. Jon was the first man she’d _ever_ wanted.

 

Jon tightened his embrace on her, her breasts pressed against his hard chest, and she tangled her fingers in his hair. Even when they stopped for a breath, they didn’t release each other and he kissed her again, hungrier than before. And when she pulled away to gasp for breath, his lips moved in hot trails down her neck, causing her to moan softly. For a few moments, she forgot everything and wandered in the past: simpler times of stolen kisses and nights of forbidden passion before all of the loss they’d suffered.

 

His eyes returned to hers and he whispered, “Please forgive me if this is betraying Robb. It doesn’t mean that I didn’t love my brother. I’m so glad he loved you and that you were happy with him. I always wanted both of you to be happy. But I still want this…with you…”

 

Tears burned her eyes and she looked away. “I don’t know what _this_ is, Jon. Robb once told me that wolves mate for life and I was his.”

 

“They do. And maybe that’s why I was never able to forget you. In my heart, you’re still my mate, even as you were his. But Robb is gone and _you’re_ not a wolf. You might not like it but you’re a lioness; fierce, passionate, and protective, and you always will be.”

 

“Jaime said I was tamed by the wolves.” She smiled slightly. “Robb said I was tamer when he met me than I am now.”

 

“You had been _controlled_ by the lions. They forced you into submission. With the wolves, you were able to be free. Robb was right. But I don’t want you to be tame. My father used to always say ‘the lone wolf dies but the pack survives’. I’m a wolf, your sons are wolves, we need to be together, but you’re the only way we can survive.”

 

“Jon, what are you asking?” she said suddenly nervous.

 

“I don’t want to _replace_ Robb,” he assured her. “But when this is over, I…I don’t know. Just don’t leave me anymore. You made me promise not to leave you again, so I’m asking you to promise the same.”

 

Deirdre was quiet for a few seconds before saying, “I still love Robb.” Tears burned her eyes. “I can’t promise you anything except that I’ll be here when you return.”

 

“Then I will make sure I return,” he said, kissing her again. ”Just holding you is better than nothing after the time we’ve been apart.”

 

“You’ve had another lover,” she pointed out and he nodded.

 

“Yes, but it wasn’t the same. She wasn’t you,” he whispered, burying his face into her neck.

 

She pulled away finally, tears threatening to fall. “We’ll talk when you return.”

 

Jon nodded and turned around, picking up Benjen and holding him against his chest. “I’ve missed you two.”

 

Brandon whined and Deirdre walked over to pick him up. “You’re jealous if you’re not getting all the attention, aren’t you?” Jon teased, stroking Brandon’s head. “But I think you prefer your mother to me.”

 

“I have something you don’t,” she muttered, unlacing her dress. Brandon latched onto her nipple immediately after she held him to her breast.

 

Jon grinned. “He does seem rather fond of them. I don’t blame him though.” Deirdre blushed, realizing suddenly how open she’d been with nursing in front of Jon and wondered if it was wise.

 

“You’re a beautiful mother with sweet sons,” he said. He snuggled Benjen into his furs. “I wish Robb had gotten to meet them. He’d be so proud and love them so much. He was always good with children. He used to carry Rickon and Bran everywhere around Winterfell.”

 

“I wish he had too,” she replied, sadly. More than anything she wished Robb was alive to raise his sons and be with her. Then she felt a pang of guilt about what just happened with Jon.

 

 After a moment, Jon took Brandon and gave her Benjen. She smiled at the adoring look Jon gave both of her sons. They might not have their father but at least, they’d be loved. If Jon survived, that is.

 

A knock on the door interrupted them. “Jon, they need you to come now,” Ned called out.

 

“Just a moment,” Jon answered. Reaching out he caressed Deirdre’s cheek. Tears welled in her eyes and he shook his head. “Please, don’t cry. I won’t be able to do this if I see your tears.”

 

Deirdre nodded, biting her lip and willing herself to be brave and force a smile. He kissed Benjen gently, and then bent to kiss Brandon. “You two behave and watch over your mother until I return,” he said with a smile. Carefully, he put Brandon in the basket.

 

Deirdre began re-lacing her dress and he stopped her, looking at her lovingly. “You’re a vision. I want to remember you just like this, nursing your son.”

 

He left slowly and Deirdre placed Benjen on the bed then picked up Brandon, lying him down beside his brother. Holding Benjen on her chest and Brandon in the other arm, she snuggled both of them to her and curled up into a ball.

 

It was all too much. She wanted to go home but she no longer had a home. Her childhood home would never be her home again. Home was Winterfell, then Robb’s tent. Home was Robb and he was gone just like Winterfell. Jon offered to take her back to Winterfell, but would it ever be home without Robb, without Rickon and Bran, and the others she’d grown to love?  And that was assuming that Jon survived this.  Could she take another loss?

 

Benjen silently looked at her with big blue eyes so much like his father’s. She kissed him and whispered, “I have to be strong for you two.”

 

After a few hours, Dacey came in and brought her some wine and something to eat. Deirdre asked but Dacey said there had been no word about Jon yet.

 

~*~

 

Deirdre must have fallen asleep because she woke to Ned arguing with someone outside her room. Her sons weren’t beside her and she jumped up in panic. Looking toward the basket and seeing it wasn’t there, she ran to the door. But when she realized it was locked, she began to yell.

 

By the time Jon came into the room she was completely hysterical. He grabbed her and held her, attempting to calm her but she wouldn’t stop screaming for her sons. Jon finally held his hand over her mouth.

 

“They’re safe,” he said loudly. “We took them to safety because King Stannis is here and he intends to send men for both of us. All of your guards are with the boys except Ned. Also, Gin and a girl named Gilly are with them. She’s a young mother too so she can nurse them.”

 

As soon as he released her, she hit him in the chest until Jon grabbed her arms. “Don’t _ever_ take my sons from me. Even if you think its best, they’re _my_ sons and you have no right taking them from me,” she yelled, furious at him.

 

“Robb left all of you in _my_ care,” Jon retorted, holding up a parchment. “I was following his final orders so please calm down and _stop_ hitting me.”

 

Grabbing the parchment, Deirdre read it, surprised she hadn’t known all of the details of his will, only his plan to legitimize Jon and have him leave the Night’s Watch. “He never told me,” she whispered. Tears burned her eyes. “You’re Lord Regent and can overrule me? So I’m queen in name only.”

 

“You’re still the boys’ mother. I wouldn’t do anything that wasn’t right for them. Dacey said that Robb knew you’d always do the right thing for your sons, but he was deathly afraid you’d put yourself at risk without thinking.” Jon looked guilty and he said, “You must forgive me.”

 

“Why? You didn’t make this decision,” she replied, her heart heavy. She couldn’t believe Robb didn’t tell her this part of the will. Even if he was trying to protect her, she felt the sting of betrayal that he hadn’t told her.

 

“No but I…” A knock on the door interrupted them.

 

Jon opened the door to Ned who quietly said Stannis’ men were there. Deirdre was confused when they led her outside and it was dark.

 

“How long was I asleep?” she asked but Jon wouldn’t answer. She felt so strange. Her body was heavy and sleep still clouded her mind.

 

Jon led her through Castle Black in plain sight of all the men and each step made her more nervous. Stannis’ men watched her with curiosity except a few that nodded politely. And the fact Jon wouldn’t meet her eyes made her terrified.

 

“Tell me what is happening,” she said to Ned.  “Why is Stannis here? _How_ is Stannis here?”

 

Ned’s eyes were dark but he shook his head and said, “Your Grace, you should listen to what Stannis has to say and agree to it.” She knew him well enough to know that he was at odds with a decision that had been made about her protection either by Dacey or perhaps by Jon now.

 

“If it’s for the best of my sons, I will but if it’s not…”

 

“It is and you _will_ ,” Jon said, quickly. She could sense his wariness which didn’t help her own fear but she said nothing.

 

They were escorted into a large room and she saw Stannis standing with a woman with red hair and dress. She remembered with a sense of nervousness what Catelyn had said about the red priestess.

 

“Lady Stark, I’m sorry for your loss,” a man she didn’t know said. “Ned Stark was an honorable man and, while Robb was a traitor to King Stannis, no one deserved the punishment he received.”

 

“The Lord of Light will destroy all adversaries to the rightful king,” a young man said, proudly. His look for Deirdre was something similar to disdain but she recognized a man who so blindly believed in his convictions. And apparently this man was a devoted follower of this Lord of Light.

 

“Was the Lord of Light also involved in the treachery that occurred at the Twins?” she shot back with no regard for the man’s faith. To her, his implication that any god would condone what was done to Robb as ‘deserved’ gave her the right to be careless. _No one_ deserved what Robb and his men suffered at The Twins.

 

“Lady Stark is not to blame for her husband’s misguidance,” the red woman said. “She’s a grieving widow. You should give her your respect. Robb Stark prayed to the Old Gods and they had no power so far south.”

 

“Lady Stark,” Stannis said with a curt nod as he walked over.

 

“Lord Stannis, I can only assume that you helped defeat the wildlings, since no one has explained anything to me,” she glared at Jon and Ned. “For that, I am grateful.”

 

“ _King_ Stannis - - you should call him by his proper title,” the arrogant young man said. “And you should bow.”

 

Deirdre glanced at the young man again and said, “Then perhaps you’ve forgotten that I’m still Queen in the North and _you_ should bow.” Ned’s sword hand tightened as he glared at the man.

 

Another man pulled the younger man back away from her and she noticed that Jon stepped up on the opposite side of her than Ned. But she couldn’t help noticing that he didn’t appear as ready to strike as Ned, like he felt there was no real threat. Why wouldn’t he feel there was a threat suddenly -- she found herself wondering?

 

“Your husband is dead, his treason with it. His rebellion has failed and his reign as King in the North as well,” Stannis said shortly. 

 

“He didn’t commit treason against _you_!” Deirdre argued indignantly, despite Jon’s hand on her arm. “He rebelled against the Iron Throne and King Joffrey. He rebelled against the people who _murdered_ his father and Lord Stark’s household in King’s Landing, then held his sisters hostage! Robb had nothing personal against you.”

 

“I am the rightful king of the Seven Kingdoms and he claimed he was the King in the North, what is that if it is not treason? And he sent his mother as an envoy to ally with my brother Renly, rather than swearing fealty to me. That is _treason_ ,” Stannis said resolutely.

 

“His people _chose_ him as King in the North! It was not his doing. He honored their wishes because he wanted to free the north from Joffrey and Cersei Lannister. Lady Stark attempted to mend the rift between you and Renly but neither of you would yield to the other. She had no choice but to do what was best for the north. Since you told her that Robb was a traitor, obviously she couldn’t align with you. Your enemies were always the same as Robb’s,” Deirdre retorted.

 

 “You should bend the knee and swear fealty to Stannis, First of his Name, King of Westeros, and the Lord of Light’s Chosen, not continue to defend the crimes of your husband,” the priestess said.

 

“ _Crimes?”_ Deirdre heard herself nearly shriek. Are these people fools? Did they not understand all that Robb went through for his people, all that he lost? And then he was betrayed and murdered, just like his father and brothers.

 

Jon urged her quietly, “Deirdre, just let King Stannis speak.”

 

The room was silent for a long time before Stannis told everyone but Jon and Deirdre to leave. Ned reluctantly left her side with an uneasy look after a nod from Jon.

 

After a moment, Stannis said, “What happened to your husband and his people at the Twins was as reprehensible as what was done to Lord Stark in King’s Landing and to the people in Winterfell by Theon Greyjoy. I intend to see that the people responsible for it are brought to justice. I do not hold you to blame for your husband’s misdeeds and his treason has been resolved by his brother.”

 

Deirdre glanced at Jon and said, “What is he talking about, Jon?”

 

“Sit,” Stannis commanded and Jon sat down before him, pulling Deirdre into the chair beside him. “The northerners that are still loyal to House Stark think of you as their queen and it is said you are loved by them, as will any children of Robb Stark be. The honorable Northmen will always rally around the heirs of Eddard Stark. The Stark line will continue and be reinstated to Lords of Winterfell and Wardens of the North.”

 

“But my son is the King in the North, his brother is a prince and his heir,” Deirdre said. “As Queen Regent, I can reclaim Winterfell in his name. The north will remain loyal to the Starks, you said it yourself.”

 

“But you _will_ renounce any claim as queen and your sons’ claims to be king and prince. You will once again be _Lady_ Stark of Winterfell. I am the King of the Seven Kingdoms and my wife is the only queen,” Stannis said matter-of-factly.

 

“No…you can’t take away my sons’ birthright,” she said in a small voice.

 

“I didn’t. It was surrendered to me already, in exchange for my help reclaiming Winterfell and the north. You want your husband’s killers brought to justice, don’t you? And his land returned? Which is more important to you – a title or the land and people that your husband fought for?” Looking at Jon, he said, “I thought you said she wasn’t like the rest of her family.”

 

Deirdre was still confused and growing angry. “I don’t care about the damn _title_ any more than I care about the Iron Throne. I want my sons to have what their father fought for. I want them to have what he _died_ for.” Then she looked at Jon as she asked, “But how could any of this have been surrendered without my knowledge?”

  
Jon wouldn’t meet her eyes at first. She saw his jaw tighten before he said, “As Lord Regent by Robb’s will, it was my decision to make.”

 

Deirdre felt like she’d been slapped and she struggled to breathe. How could Jon have betrayed her like this? How could he have betrayed Robb? She rose and said coldly, “Jon Snow has no claim. My _sons_ are heirs of Robb Stark, King in the North and the _legitimate_ son of Lord Eddard Stark. Jon doesn’t make decisions for me, nor my children. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m returning to my sons.”

 

When she stepped away, Jon rose and grabbed her arm. “Your Grace, could I please speak to Deirdre alone?”

 

“Not for long. We must settle this matter before she will be allowed to be reunited with her children,” Stannis said with a weary sigh and waved them out.

 

Jon led her out of the door and to another room. Before he could say anything, she snapped, “I never thought you had it in you to betray me or Robb but how wrong I was! You will never keep my children away from me again, Jon Snow, or I will forget any feelings I ever had for you and…”

 

“I did this for you and your sons,” he seethed. “Do you think I wanted to?”

 

“That’s what you’ve _just done_. You took my children from my room without my permission. How did you manage that? Did you have Dacey _drug_ me? You plotted with Stannis to give up their birthright without talking to me. Is this some misguided attempt to take Robb’s place?” Deirdre had never been so mad in all of her life and she didn’t care how much her words hurt him. Part of her wanted him to feel the same pain and betrayal she felt right now as she clenched her fists to avoid hitting him until he was bloody or he forced her to stop. “I’ll never forgive you for this. I’m leaving Castle Black today, with my children and my men and you’ll never see us again.”

 

“If you leave Castle Black, Stannis will send men after you. They will either bring you back or some accident will happen along the road. If we don’t do this, Brandon and Benjen will be hunted like the Targaryens,” Jon said sternly.

 

When she didn’t reply, he said, “As long as they’re alive and you won’t give up their claim, they’re a threat to Stannis’ attempt to win loyalty in the north. Robb would want you all alive more than he would want them to become king. Stannis has promised to help us reclaim the north and Winterfell from Lord Bolton as well as the lands that were invaded by the Ironborn. He’ll help me drive them all out of the north. We’ll still have what Father had before he became Hand of the King. This is what Robb would want.”

 

“He’ll help _you_? What do you mean _you_?”

 

Jon looked down for a moment before returning his gaze to hers. “If he hopes to regain the north, he has to win on two fronts – driving out the enemy and winning the loyalty of the Northmen. He knows that the love for you and your sons will be more persuasive than if he tried to do it alone. As the last remaining son of Eddard Stark, he’ll legitimize me but that won’t earn as much loyalty from those that fought by Robb’s side than it would be if you and I were to marry. Brandon would still be heir to Winterfell. Any of our children would be in line after Benjen.”

 

Deirdre stared at him for a moment before she laughed bitterly. “He thinks we should marry? And how will that earn love from Robb’s people: seeing their former queen wed the king’s brother so soon after his death?”

 

“It’s done all the time for political reasons. My father and Lady Catelyn did the same thing when my Uncle Brandon was killed. And…I agreed to do it,” he said quietly.

 

“ _You_ agreed?” she asked. She watched him for a long time with a bitter smile. “Did it even take much convincing, Jon? Everything you ever wanted – Winterfell, the Stark name, and no longer a bastard – was I even a thought in your plan or just an afterthought? You finally got everything you ever wanted.” Jon’s gaze grew fiery and she added coldly, “Stannis might legitimize you but I never thought of you as a bastard until this very moment.”

 

“This is what I wanted?” he said incredulously. “My father and brother were beheaded. My little brothers were murdered by Robb’s best friend. I have no idea where my sisters are and I _wanted_ this? I might still be a bastard, but this is the first time you’ve shown that truly cruel and cold Lannister heart.”

 

They glared at each other in silence for a few moments before she shot back, “You can have Winterfell and the north. But you cannot have me or my sons. We’re not property to be traded among men. I will not be _forced_ into another marriage. Nor will I allow you to take what Robb earned away from his sons…”

 

“Did you hear Stannis? He will not _allow_ you to be reunited with your children until you agree! I knew you’d be angry but I never thought you’d be too blind to see that you’re dangerous to him. It would be easier for him to kill both of the boys than let you walk away from here and rally the Northmen to your cause. I’m doing this not just because I love those boys and need to protect them, but because I love my brother and this is what _he_ would expect me to do.” He watched her cross her arms over her chest and turn away from him, refusing to meet his gaze. “It appears he was right to realize you wouldn’t do what was safe for yourself. You’re acting like a child,” Jon snapped back.

 

Tears burned her eyes and she looked down, not wanting to let him see her as weak. Silence filled the room and eventually Jon stepped over to her and pulled her chin up, forcing her to look at him. “I know you’re angry and feel betrayed right now but I have to protect you even if you end up hating me for it. I’d rather you be alive and angry then dead.”

 

“I’ll never trust you again,” she whispered with a sob, pulling away from him. “I’ll do what I’ve always done and marry who a man tells me to marry for my sons’ safety and because, once again, I was given no choice. But you treated me exactly how my family always did: like property.”

 

Jon’s expression went from angry to hurt. “I’ve tolerated all that you’ve said about me because I know you’re angry. I even let you accuse me of betraying my own brother and say that this was all a plot to replace him because I _understand_ you feel betrayed. But I honestly thought that your anger made you say things you didn’t really feel. Now I wonder how you could think this way if the seeds of doubt weren’t already there.”

 

Feeling guilty for hurting him, despite everything, she wiped away her tears angrily. “You didn’t even ask me what I wanted,” she replied. “You expected to tell me that I had to marry you and give up what Robb fought for, what he died for, so easily.”

  
“Don’t be naïve. Robb fought for you and your sons. You saw what he went through – do you think he cared about being king in the end? He fought for our Father’s legacy, the Stark legacy. He wanted to free the north of the Lannisters And he fought for his family. You’re not giving up anything he _wanted_ and you know it. You said it yourself: he wanted to be in Winterfell with his family, not fighting a war. Stannis is going to help us win back what Robb lost because he was made a king.”

 

“But it still won’t bring Robb back. It won’t bring Bran or Rickon back. And now…I don’t even know you, Jon _Stark_. Jon Snow would never have handled it like this. Jon Snow would never have taken my children away from me like you did,” Deirdre replied before succumbing and dissolving into tears and sobs. “I just want my sons back. I’ll do anything you and Stannis ask, just give me my children back, Jon. I beg you.”

 

After a moment, Jon sank to his knees and wrapped his arms around her. “Forgive me,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you about the boys. Things happened so fast and they were in danger. I had to think quickly. So I had Dacey give you the dreamwine, then she and the others took the boys to safety. Stannis doesn’t know where they are. But I knew if I told you, you’d insist on staying with them and Stannis would tear this place apart looking for you. Forgive me. I was afraid they’d get hurt so I did what I did to protect them. I didn’t think how much it would scare you.”

 

Taking her face in his hands, he said, “If you want me refuse Stannis’ offer to legitimize me I will, but they won’t let us leave alive if I do not give up Brandon’s claim. I would die for you or those boys. But I will not see any of you hurt. Robb would come back to haunt me forever if I did.”

 

“Why didn’t you just talk to me instead of doing it this way? You treated me like a child then cursed me for acting like one. I’m _terrified_ and just want my sons. If I thought it would do any good I’d run and find them myself.” Her lip quivered. “You didn’t want me to feel you betrayed us, yet you didn’t just ask me what I wanted to do and trust me to be smart enough to put my sons first.”

 

“I know you would have put them first, but I don’t think you realized what a threat you and those boys are to Stannis’ plans for the north. He wanted to lock you up. Ned told me Lady Stark suspected he killed Renly, his own brother…I couldn’t risk him hurting you,” Jon admitted. “But if it will make it any easier to hear me say the words, I’m pleading with you to give up Brandon’s claims to King in the North. And I’m here now on my knees begging you to forgive me and to marry me so that we can reclaim the north together, for your sons, for Robb’s sons. I’m not trying to replace my brother. I’m trying to honor his wishes.”

 

Deirdre was silent as she wiped away the tears in her eyes. She couldn’t believe the gods were so cruel. When she married Robb, she had wanted to be with Jon. She had married Robb to protect Jon. And now she loved Robb, they took him from her and she was being _forced_ to marry Jon to save her sons.

 

“I wanted to do right by Father and Robb too and try to win back Winterfell and the north. But also…I still love you, Deirdre. I’d sacrifice anything for you and your sons.”

 

Deirdre’s breath caught in her throat at Jon’s confession. She looked away in shock and confusion.  Jon cupped her chin and turned her to face him. “Forgive me. I know I handled this badly and I had wanted to win your love again gradually in time, not force this onto you but I had no choice. When Stannis suggested marriage as a way to reinforce our loyalty and the only way to protect you, I agreed, hoping that you could still have enough feelings for me that it wouldn’t be so horrible for you. It will also prevent him trying to force you to marry another man that was loyal to him.”

 

After a moment, she nodded and said, “I’ll say what you want me to say but please let me go to the boys afterwards. You and Stannis can make whatever plans for the north without me. I don’t care to hear about the battles or schemes. I’ll say what I’m told to say. All I ask is that he gives me his word that he will not harm my sons or guards for treason. _Please_ Jon.”

 

“Stannis has already assured me that if you agreed, he’d pardon all of your guards. I know I have no right to ask you to trust me but I will earn it again,” Jon promised. “Let’s finish talking with Stannis then Ned can take you back to the boys.”

 

They returned to Stannis and Deirdre nodded at all the appropriate times but barely spoke. When the red priestess returned and said their marriage should take place within a fortnight, Deirdre glanced up in surprise. “So soon? My husband has only been dead for a short time. I would like the appropriate amount of time to mourn him.”

 

“I don’t have time to wait. Besides, as the Starks are fond of saying, ‘winter is coming’ and it’s only going to make things more difficult for us,” Stannis said.

 

Tears burned her eyes but she only said, “Your Grace, I’ve agreed to what you’ve asked and you’ve promised my sons’ safety. Can I go to them now? They’re so young and need their mother.”

 

“Yes,” Stannis ordered. “Jon and I have more to discuss so your man will take you to your children.”

 

“Thank you…Your Grace.”

 

As she was leaving, the red woman watched her closely, leaving Deirdre feeling even more uncomfortable than before. At the doorway, she spoke softly, “I’d love to see your children, these young wolves of yours. Perhaps I can visit and give them the blessings of R'hllor.”

 

Deirdre scrambled for a moment before saying, “Of course you may visit - when they’re older and less prone to sickness. But the wolves of the north honor the Old Gods, as you said.”

 

“There is only one god,” Melisandre said with a slight smile and Deirdre quickly escaped the room.

 

Ned took her to the boys and she ordered everyone from the room immediately, not even greeting the young girl that she knew must be Jon’s friend. As soon as they were alone, she held both of her children, kissing them repeatedly, and sobbing uncontrollably.

 

 

~*~

 

Jon watched Deirdre leave the room without a backward glance and his heart sunk. He needed to remedy what just happened between them but he wasn’t sure how to make amends. Deirdre was a strong woman he knew but since losing Robb, her strength hadn’t been consistent and he couldn’t risk her going up against a man such as Stannis with so much to lose. She was too emotional. Jon could listen to Stannis’ remarks about Robb being a traitor and smother his instincts to fight back. His time with the wildlings had taught him how to do that.

 

Stannis watched him silently for a few moments before saying, “I’m trusting what I’ve heard about the honorability of the Starks. If she attempts to flee and raise her husband’s allies against me or brings her own family…”

 

“She won’t, Your Grace,” Jon quickly said. “Deirdre has nothing to do with the Lannisters any longer. Her men wouldn’t allow her to risk her own life by fleeing.”

 

“I thought the Targaryen children were too weak and afraid to flee,” the king said, clenching his jaw, his eyes fixing Jon in place. “I was made a fool once before by another king’s children. My brother never let me forget that. And no matter who she married, Lady Deirdre _is_ a Lannister.”

 

Jon thought a moment before speaking. “And she’s suffered so much betrayal from her family. She loved my brother Robb and she knows the Lord Tywin had a part in what happened at the Twins. Her life and her sons’ lives were in danger when she fled that wedding, Your Grace. Trust me when I say, there is no loyalty to her family any longer.”

 

“I am trusting you, Jon Snow. I do not handle betrayals well,” Stannis remarked and Jon thought to what Ned had told him about Renly Baratheon’s death. The king rose and walked to the table that had a huge map spread out on it. “I need to know all there is to know about the Northern lords and their lands: who I can trust and whether I can find support or resistance from them.”

 

 

 


	15. Chapter 15

 

_A/N Thank you to CalliopeGalaxy for the beta! And thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback!  
_

_The last chapter had a lot of mixed reviews on whether Jon did the right thing or wronged Deirdre. The main reason that Jon caved to Stannis' demands was the fact that he realized that if he resisted, then Deirdre and her sons would be caught between the forces of Stannis, the Ironborn, and Bolton. He knew Robb had lost the Karstarks, Freys, and Boltons plus those loyal to him in the Riverlands were on the other side of the Twins - therefore, no help to him. And that's not even including the Lannisters ( & Tyrell) forces. Jon doesn't know how many loyal Northmen remain after the Red Wedding and suspects that there aren't enough to win against all of these enemies. It was obviously a controversial decision but if you remember from earlier chapters - Deirdre never wanted to be queen and Robb frequently didn't want to be king. Deirdre's anger at Jon is because he made the decision behind her back without including her at all. If he had included her, she would likely have agreed to it just to spare her sons' lives being at risk. _

* * *

**Chapter 15**

 

Jon’s time spent with Stannis was wearing heavy on him. The king expected Jon’s input on all things, asking him questions upon questions regarding the north, but often would not listen to his advice. Most of the other lords of his council and their knights treated Jon with barely concealed distain. He was reminded everyday by their treatment that he was a bastard son raised up only because his future wife and her sons, his nephews, were a danger to Stannis. They held little respect for the Starks of Winterfell. While none could deny his father’s honor, since Robb was named King in the North, they considered the Starks a less honorable. Jon came to them an accused traitor and a bastard son of a traitor. And despite Stannis’ dependence on Jon’s input on the Northmen, the lords loyal to him never let Jon forget how little they thought of Robb. Jon spent half his time biting his tongue and trying to cool his temper due to the implications made about his family.

 

As he sat in his chambers staring at the fire one day, lost in thought, Sam walked in without knocking. He had been back since the day Stannis had helped defeat Mance Rayder, bringing Gilly, and her son with him. “What are you doing?” his friend asked, looking particularly annoyed at him.

 

There were maps and papers spread out on the table and Jon gestured to them absentmindedly with a weary expression. “I’m trying to decide the best way to reclaim Deepwood Motte. Or Moat Caitlin or any damn place that the Ironborn have taken…”

 

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about your future wife Deirdre!” Sam exclaimed, clearly exasperated.

 

“What about her? Is something wrong?” Jon sat up quickly.

 

“Only that you two haven’t spoken since you agreed to marry her. She hasn’t even left her chambers, not that you would have noticed.” Pushing away some of the papers, Sam sat down and made himself comfortable, pouring himself some ale.

 

“She’s well taken care of, she’s eating, the babes are both well. I’m well aware that everyone is safe,” Jon replied dully and returned back to the fire. “She’s hurt and angry. She just needs time to calm down.”

 

“She won’t speak to Lady Dacey since she helped you. She barely speaks to anyone. Sometimes Gilly goes to see her and says Deirdre’s kind but is withdrawn and quiet. From what Pyp and Grenn have said, she’s not acting like she did when she first arrived. Even her guard, Ned, is worried about her since she mourns her husband and feels so betrayed by you and Lady Dacey.”

 

“I know she feels betrayed by us both,” Jon answered. “That’s why Dacey has been helping me with this, to give Deirdre’s temper time to cool.”

 

“I don’t know much about women and I know even less about her. But to me, she’s not acting angry. She acts hopeless and lost. Gilly thinks she’s never seen a woman so sad. Considering where Gilly came from, you know she’s seen more than her share of sad women. She said Deirdre is barely surviving for her children,” Sam said.

 

Jon sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “What do you expect me to do? I can’t fix things for her. I caused a lot of her pain.”

 

“So you’re going to make it better by hiding out from her? And I thought I was the craven,” Sam snorted.

 

“I’m not craven!” Jon exclaimed. “You said it yourself - you don’t know her.”

 

Sam was quiet for a moment, studying him. Jon looked away after a moment because he knew Sam saw right through his excuses. “You once told me that you loved her. You’re to be married to her soon. I know enough to know you should fix this _before_ you take your vows.”

 

Jon shook his head, flexing his burned hand instinctively. “I don’t know how to fix this, Sam. This is just how Deirdre is when she’s hurting. She hides away from everyone and withdraws into herself.”

 

“Then you must do something to pull her out of herself.” Sam was thoughtful for a time before grinning. “Why don’t you attempt courting her? It sounds like you two never had a typical relationship. Maybe you should try what a man would do to win her affections. Bring her flowers. _Talk to her_ about something other than your impending battles in the north or the loss of your family and her husband. You’re not a member of the Night’s Watch anymore. You can do as you please.”

 

Jon thought about it for a moment and realized Sam was right. “But if she doesn’t want to leave her sons, how can I be alone with her? Besides Castle Black isn’t the most romantic place.”

 

“You convince her that Gilly and I will watch the babies while Ned and someone else guard them. She still seems to still trust all of her guards except Dacey. She knows Gilly and realizes I’m not the enemy despite being your friend. This afternoon you can ask her to see you tonight. Have the cook to make you something decent to eat, find some wine, and take her for a walk or something.”

 

“A picnic on the Wall? _Very_ romantic.” Jon smirked. But then again, maybe she would like to see the view from the top, although to Jon it wasn’t magical now as it once was. “I’ll try. But I have no idea where you intend me to find flowers.”

 

Sam rose and began walking toward the door, shaking his head and muttering something about how Jon expected him to think of everything.  After he left, Jon sat and thought about what Sam had said. He should have gone to talk to Deirdre and not been put off by her initial shutting herself away. She’d done that at Winterfell when she’d been angry and he’d only sought her out after Robb had managed to convince her to come to dinner in the Great Hall. This time Jon couldn’t wait around for someone else to do it for him. On top of everything he had done, she was grieving for Robb and Stannis forcing them to marry so soon just made her feel worse.

 

Before going to see her, he bathed and changed clothes. It was nice to wear things other than the Night’s Watch garb. He knew Gilly was sewing him something special to wear for their wedding but for now, he wore what he still had from Winterfell. Some of it didn’t fit. He hadn’t realized he’d grown so much in the last year but he was taller and thicker in muscle. But he was able to still wear a cloak his father had given him that was like the ones his brothers had. ‘A Stark cloak for a Stark’ he thought for a moment, stroking the furs. Strangely he still felt like Jon Snow, the bastard. He could still see his brothers’ faces, as if they were watching over him. Pulling himself out of the past, he threw the cloak around his shoulders.

 

Jon made his way to the kitchens and asked the cook to make them something special. He had to do a little bit of convincing but in the end, bribery won out and it cost him one of the daggers Mikken had made him long ago when Jon was younger. Jon nodded to the men he knew but noticed that very few responded. Once again, he was an outsider to most of them even though he’d earned their respect for a time.

 

Outside Deirdre’s chambers, he grew nervous. Ned glanced up from playing cards with Robert and Patrek at a table nearby and smiled, saying, “I wondered when you’d brave the lion’s den again.”

 

“I had duties to attend to, plans to make…” Jon began but Ned shook his head and rose, stepping away from the other men so they could speak privately.

 

“No one enjoys upsetting her. There is no need to explain. I never considered your brother a coward, but there were times when even the king was afraid to face her,” Ned said quietly. “Dacey is distraught that Deirdre refuses to speak with her. I think she’s more hurt by Dacey than you because she was _her_ friend and had sworn to be loyal to her before anyone else.”

 

“But Dacey did what she thought was best for Deirdre. As did I,” Jon replied.

 

“If you want her to forgive you, you need to remember that you treated her like a child, you took away her right to decide for herself and her ability to defend her children. I told you both that drugging her was a mistake,” Ned said with a flash of anger in his eyes. “Before we came here, Dacey was her companion, not her guard, because they were friends. The king considered asking Dacey to be one of her guards but soon grew to doubt it. He knew Dacey would protect Deirdre at all costs but he felt that sometimes Dacey treated Deirdre like she was helpless or weak because she was gentle and kind. The king…” Ned hesitated as if he worried about betraying his loyalty to Robb. “Her confidence is so fragile that it’s easy to shatter when she’s hurt. It only grew at all because of Robb’s faith in her. He was very protective of her but he attempted to hide much of it from her so she didn’t lose her confidence.”

 

Jon narrowed his eyes at him. “So I have to lie to her and keep things from her?”

 

“Don’t be obtuse, my lord, it’s not fitting.” Ned watched him for a moment. “When Bran was learning to shoot a bow or fight with a sword, did his mother hover over him and cringe over every bruise or did Lord Stark tell him what mistakes he had made and which moves were right? I don’t think that Lord Stark wanted Bran to get hurt, anymore than he wanted Arya or Sansa hurt. But he knew that to build Bran’s confidence he had to hide his concern.”

 

“Bran was a child, not a woman, and he ended up a cripple in the end. Perhaps if Lady Stark…”

 

“Perhaps if his mother had watched him every moment he’d still be alive?” Ned scoffed. “Robb said she reprimanded him constantly not to climb. No, Bran was fearless because that was his spirit. But it was his spirit that made him wake up after that fall instead of die. Deirdre has spirit too, which, according to your brother, grew as soon as she was away from the Lannisters. You’ll have to find a way to protect her without destroying that spirit again, my lord.”

 

Jon nodded thoughtfully. “I hadn’t realized you and Robb were such close friends.”

 

“He trusted me with his wife’s life,” Ned chuckled, and then he grew thoughtful. “She and I became friends first, I suppose. But the king needed someone to talk about her safety and gradually we became friends. Lady Stark wanted her sent to Riverrun or some holdfast in the north for safety and pressured Robb to send her away. Some of his bannermen felt the same. After what happened with Theon and the plot of Black Walder Frey, the king couldn’t trust her in someone else’s care, especially since the Lannisters wanted her back.”  Ned put his hand on Jon’s shoulder and looked at Jon sternly. “She’s like a sister to me and I will kill any man that hurts her. _Any_ man, Lord Stark, even you.”

 

“You’re threatening your liege lord? I could kill you for that alone,” Jon said sternly.

 

“You could, but I don’t think you will,” Ned replied, his eyes losing the serious look for a moment. “I wouldn’t have said it if I hadn’t threatened your brother the same way, after he had already become the King in the North. He appreciated the fact I cared enough to die for her and I assumed you would as well.” He had the nerve to smirk.

 

Jon rolled his eyes. Leave it to Robb to have chosen Ned to watch Deirdre – someone who’d be honest enough to tell him like it was without the courtly manners. Ned was right though. Jon preferred it as well.

 

“But you need to stop allowing her to hide herself away like she’s been doing. Her family taught her to just smile and do whatever they asked. She never learned to handle conflict with people she cares about so she withdraws. And whatever you do, don’t attempt to make peace between her and Dacey. Dacey needs to make this right with Deirdre not have you do it.” Ned replied. “Keep in mind, Jon, Robb may have asked for my advice when it came to Deirdre’s protection but he knew how to solve his problems with her after his own failures so I suggest you learn from your mistakes.”

 

Jon bristled at that, but part of him knew that Ned would expect Jon to live up to the standards Robb had already set. Jon had to make her as happy as Robb did or he’d fail them both.  And something told him that Ned would watch every move and warn him of his missteps.  He had to prove himself to Ned, whose loyalty had been to Deirdre and Robb for a long time. Jon had to step out of Robb’s shadow once and for all and prove he was every bit the man his brother was. But he wouldn’t compete with Ned when it came to Deirdre’s best interest. He’d accept his advice, when warranted, but she was to be _his_ wife, not Ned’s.

 

“Duly noted. But Ned, do not mistake me for my brother. While I appreciate your honesty, you haven’t earned that level of trust from me yet either. It appears we both have things to prove to one another,” Jon warned, studying the other man.

 

Ned hesitated then nodded, stepping away and sitting down with the other men, watching Jon expectantly.

 

Taking a deep breath, he knocked on her door. After a few moments, Gilly opened it and gave him a bright smile. “It’s Jon…I mean Lord Stark,” she said, turning away. “Do you want to talk to him, milady?”

 

After a few seconds, Gilly moved out of the way and let him in. Val was sitting at the table with Mance’s son as well. Deirdre had dark circles under her eyes and looking away from him quickly. Gilly looked back and forth between the two of them until the silence became uncomfortable before she said, “I’m going to take this little one to bathe. Come on Val.” The women left with the two babies quickly.

 

“I wanted to see you and the boys,” he said gently.  “Are the boys well?”

 

“Yes,” Deirdre answered dismissively. “They’re both fine.”

 

“And you?”

 

“I’m fine,” she replied.

 

Her tone gave him chills. He’d seen her many moods from joy to grief but this was something worse to him. She did seem hopeless, as Sam had said. She had withdrawn so far inside herself, she seemed like another person and he worried she was unreachable. He hoped he hadn’t waited too late. He walked over to check on the boys and, seeing that Benjen was awake, he asked, “May I?”

 

She seemed surprised that he would ask but she nodded. Jon picked up the babe and noticed his eyes watching him curiously. “He’s growing so fast.” Glancing down he saw that Brandon seemed bigger too. “It’s only been a few days.”

 

“They’re smaller at birth since they were twins, so they’ll gain weight faster at first,” she said quietly.

  
Jon walked to the table and sat down, cradling Benjen against him. “I wanted to ask...well, I thought perhaps…” he stammered then muttered under his breath for a moment before saying, “I wanted to show you the view from the top of the Wall and I had hoped you’d join me for supper.”

 

Deirdre was quiet for a few moments before saying, “I don’t think I should leave the boys.”

 

“Sam and Gilly said they’d stay with them plus Ned and your other guards will be here. I don’t think you’ll need your own guard if you’re with me. I know you feel safer with Ned protecting your sons.”

 

“I trust him and the others,” she said. Her gaze rose to his. “It’s you and Dacey I can’t trust.”

 

Jon nodded. “I know. Deirdre, I can’t undo what I’ve done. I can only apologize and try to earn your forgiveness. But I can’t do that, if you won’t let me try.”

 

After a moment, she nodded. “If Ned stays with Gilly and Sam, I suppose I can go for a little while.”

 

“Dress warmly,” he said with a smile. Benjen was opening and closing his hand around Jon’s finger then pulled it into his mouth. “I’ve missed you…all of you.” When Deirdre said nothing, he continued, “I’ll do it whatever it takes to earn back your trust. I was wrong and I’m sorry I hurt you.”

 

“You have a lot of experience in hurting me,” she said quietly.

 

It stung that she remembered that more than anything else but considering what he’d said to her at her wedding to Robb, it was not completely surprising. He watched her for a moment before asking, “And Robb never hurt you?” Her jaw tightened and anger flashed in her eyes, but it gave him hope because it was a sign of some fight left in her. He quickly added, “I’m not saying that excuses _anything_ , but perhaps what you once said was right. Maybe with love, the feeling is so strong, all feelings are more powerful, including anger and hurt.”

 

“You didn’t listen to me that night. Why should I listen to you now?”

 

“Because you were right. Deirdre…my passion for you then scared me because I’d never felt anything so strong and confusing. You and the boys being in danger made me realize it wasn’t the passion we had that was scary, it was love.” He looked down at Benjen. “I look at this baby and I cannot think of one thing I wouldn’t sacrifice to protect him and his brother. They may be Robb’s sons but I love them as if they’re my own. I’ve lost everyone else. I can’t lose the three of you.”

 

Deirdre looked uncomfortable when he brought up his feelings for her so he didn’t say more. Brandon had woken up so he placed Benjen in her arms and picked up Brandon. After a moment he said, “He looks so much like Robb.”

 

“I know,” she said quietly. “He’s going to grow into a mirror image of his father.” Looking down at Benjen she added, “And Benjen looks like you. No one will ever know he isn’t your son.”

 

Jon looked up in surprise. “I don’t intend to let people think they’re _my_ sons. Nor do I plan on trying to replace Robb. One day, I’ll tell his sons about their father. I’ll tell him what a great and loyal brother he was. I’ll tell them how much he loved you, more than anything in this world. They’re the living, breathing proof of your love. Someday I hope we’ll have a child who will share the same bond with them that I shared with my brothers and sisters. But these boys will always be Robb’s sons no matter who raises them.”

 

Her gaze rose to his. “It’s going to be so confusing for them.”

 

“It won’t be like Catelyn and I, if that’s why you’re worried. I’ll treat them the same way I know Robb would have treated them.” Stopping suddenly, he remembered what Sam had said about taking about not talking about Robb. “We can talk about that another time. Tonight I don’t to talk about our losses. I want to talk about us, our future.”

 

She shook her head and looked away. “I’m not ready to face that.”

 

“Robb wouldn’t want you miserable and neither do I.”

 

“He left me in your care. You’re trapped: I understand that. You should have a wife that can love you and only you, but I can’t let him go,” she said softly. “He defined me. I was Robb Stark’s wife and I was loved by his people because of that. Before that I was just some minor Lannister widow that no one cared about except to use to barter. With Robb, I was someone respected and loved even. Now - who I am really? I’m a woman who is to be married for political reasons, _again_. This marriage is Stannis’ way of using my sons and me; his way of manipulating you.”

 

“Those might be Stannis’ reasons but they aren’t mine. Deirdre, look at me.” He sat beside her and took her hand. “I don’t know that I can ever make you as happy as you were with Robb but I intend to try. I want you and your children to be happy and cared for. I want to be a good husband to you and for us to be a family, not for Stannis’ reasons. These boys deserve that and so do you.”

 

She was quiet for a moment before asking, “And what do you deserve, Jon? Don’t you want more than this?”

 

“I’m getting more than I thought I’d ever have: a wife, children, and the home that I shared with the people I loved most.” Putting his finger under her chin, he lifted her face to look at him. “If someday I have your love again then that’s all I could ever dare dream of.” Leaning forward he kissed her cheek gently. She stiffened and said nothing but didn’t pull away. “I’ll return in a few hours to take you to supper and for our walk.  I’ll court you like I never could in Winterfell.”

 

After Jon left her, Deirdre arranged for a bath. Since there were no servants here, Ned had paid a couple of women from Mole Town to help her until they departed. Gilly and Val returned with Gin soon after her bath and then Val and Gilly giggled like young girls about her evening plans with Jon. Deirdre allowed them to dress her in one of her nicer gowns, a nice, thick blue gown with ermine on the sleeves. It was one that Lady Stark had made for her in Riverrun but Gin had already altered it since she was no longer pregnant. Gin insisted on doing her hair, saying she missed doing her daughter’s hair since she had married and moved further south.

 

Deirdre didn’t have many nice things with her that fit because they fled in a hurry but some of their trunks had been on the wagon they had taken. Some contained her things, some had Robb’s, and others contained supplies. It wasn’t until they were at Castle Black that her men went through them other than to find what supplies they could use along the road. Luckily, Gin had been able to alter some of the dresses that she had worn when she was pregnant and a few dresses she had before she was pregnant were cut loosely enough to fit her fuller figure.

 

“I’ve never seen finer fabric. Jon would look so handsome in this for your wedding.” Gilly’s words made Deirdre turn and she saw the girl held a thick grey velvet doublet of Robb’s.

 

“Take it,” she replied. “It will probably need to be altered. Jon is not as tall as Robb but he is broader. I think it would still work.” Rising, she went to the trunk and pulled out a few items. “Here, these can be used as well if you wish. I suppose I don’t need them.”

 

Val watched her quietly then went to the trunks and dug around for a few minutes, pulling out a few doublets and tunics. “These could be made into clothes for your sons. They’re going to need warm clothes. We could use some of these thicker fabrics for that.”

 

Biting her lip, Deirdre nodded. “Yes, we should do that.” She held onto a thick fur lined cloak that she knew was one of Robb’s favorites in Winterfell but he rarely wore it during the war. It was regal looking in her eyes. There was a silver direwolf pin at the throat and she ran her fingers over it. There was another one in grey that matched one that she had. “We’ll use whatever we need for the boys clothes, all except these two cloaks. Robb’s things in Winterfell are likely gone and…I want something for Benjen and Brandon to have when they’re older. There are other cloaks and furs in there that can be made into clothing for them. I’m sure that I have some things that can be used as well.”

 

“This is beautiful,” Gilly said in awe and Deirdre turned to find her holding her crown. “I’ve never held a crown before. Or even seen so much gold and so many jewels. ‘Course I never knew a queen.”

  
 _Perhaps I should just have them melt it down for the silver and gold._ Deirdre took the crown as Gilly held it out to her. She still remembered Robb giving it to her and the fight that followed. Shaking her head, she thought, _The Riverlords made this as a gift for me. I’ll keep it to remember them by, especially since some of them are lost forever._ She smiled and placed it on Gilly’s head, saying, “You can be queen for now.”

 

“What do you intend to wear for your wedding?” Gin asked gently.

 

“I don’t know. I don’t have anything suitable for a wedding but I do have some gowns that I could use the fabric. Nothing as fine as I would wear if I were in Casterly Rock or Winterfell but considering where we are, I suppose it will do. I have one gown that would be suitable but it’s from before I was pregnant and it probably won’t fit.” She chuckled. “I have money to buy gowns but where does one buy such things here at the Wall?”

 

“We can make a gown for you,” Gin offered. When Deirdre started to argue, she said, “The king will be there. And you want to look your best for your future husband, right?”

 

“This will be my third wedding and the second king attending them. For the king, I couldn’t care less how I look,” Deirdre said honestly.  “But you’re right about Jon. I should look my best for him so yes, if you can find a dress or some material to make one that would be nice. I do have gold if needed and I will pay the three of you for your help.” She felt guilty that in her anger at him, she was being so thoughtless toward Jon.

 

“You don’t need to pay us,” Val said. “We’re trying to help you and Jon. He’s a good man, Deirdre. I know that something happened that caused such anger towards him but he’s a brave and worthy man. He saved me and my sister’s baby when the king’s soldiers tried to take us and imprison us with Mance. A lot of the free people still consider him a traitor to us and I was angry at him as well. But he had to do what he did to help his people and any of us would do the same to help our own.”

 

“I didn’t know he rescued you,” Deirdre said quietly. “Did you know him well, before that? When he was with Mance and your people?”

 

“Not well enough, I suppose. He was mostly with Ygritte…” Her eyes flew to Deirdre’s and she exclaimed, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

 

Deirdre smiled gently. “I know about Ygritte.” After a few moments, she asked, “What was she like?”

 

“She was brave and bold but too rash. Jon and she fought half the time like they wanted to kill each other but she wanted him so much. It made her mad that he resisted her for so long. She would lie beside him at night, in his furs and snuggle up against him for warmth but she wanted more than his warmth I know,” Val replied with a laugh. “Jon acted like he was being tortured.”

 

“He resisted because he was in the Night’s Watch,” Gilly explained to Val. “It’s a stupid vow they take about not being with women again. But Sam says the officers go to the brothel in Mole Town.”

 

“Aye, they do,” Gin agreed. “Everyone in Mole Town knows that but I think the Lord Commander turns a blind eye to keep the peace. Or Lord Mormont did. I don’t know if the new Lord Commander will allow it when they pick one.”

 

Quietly, Deirdre asked Val, “Was she beautiful?” She tried to seem detached but obviously she cared or she wouldn’t have asked.

 

“She had red hair, kissed by fire, which is considered lucky so, yes, I suppose she was beautiful. Not like you though…I mean, from what I’ve seen and heard the women of the south that are considered beautiful are different than beyond the Wall.”

 

Deirdre didn’t know how to respond to that. She thought Val was beautiful but it was a more wild and unrefined way than what was customarily called ‘beautiful’ in the Seven Kingdoms. But she didn’t know what men considered beautiful beyond the Wall. She wasn’t impressed by beauty, considering that she came from a family where women like Cersei used her beauty to manipulate people.

 

Deirdre had mixed feelings about Ygritte. It seemed like she caused Jon more harm than good. But she couldn’t help but feel a little bit of jealousy. She knew it was unfair and immature that she should feel that way but she couldn’t help herself. Part of her had always thought she would be Jon’s only lover and, as selfish and unfair as it was, she wished it had been true. But she knew if given the option he’d prefer that of her as well.

 

“I heard he was a good lover though,” Val whispered with a wicked smile. “So you need not worry about that.”

 

“I know he is,” Deirdre answered without thinking and Val’s eyes widened slightly, the room becoming very quiet as all three women looked at her. “I mean, I’m sure he will be…” she quickly said. Val continued to study her long after Gin and Gilly returned to going though the clothing, causing Deirdre to blush and look away. 

 

Sam came to her room to keep Gilly company while she watched the children and Gin and Val left. Deirdre liked Sam. He had a sweet nature and was witty and smart. But she’d frequently catch him watching her with a big grin that made her wonder about him and for awhile he’d  get flustered whenever she’d tried to talk to him. When Jon came to her door, Sam had the same big grin on his face as he looked back and forth between the two of them.  She wondered what Jon had said to Sam about her.

 

Deirdre kissed each of her sleeping sons and let Jon lead her out of the room. It was suppertime so most of the Night’s Watch brothers were not outside which was more comfortable to her. The men tended to stare at her and she wasn’t sure if it was because they knew who she was or just because she was one of the few females there. She and Jon were quiet for a moment as they walked and she sensed his nervousness, then she realized this was probably the first time he’d ever formally courted a woman, despite what he had already shared with her and Ygritte.

 

“I thought perhaps we should go up on top of the Wall before it gets too dark,” he said at last. “Then we can go to my chambers and have supper. It would be too cold for you to stay on the Wall very long.”

 

“Yes. Sadly, the former Queen in the North still has thin Southern blood,” she admitted. “I was further south in the Riverlands and Westerlands most of the last year so my body never really adapted to the cold.”

 

“The cold on the Wall is not something you can easily adapt to no matter where you’re from.” He took her hand and led her to the lift. “You look lovely tonight,” he said softly.

 

“Thank you. It’s nice to see you in something other than black.” His simple compliment made her blush and feel like she had in the Godswood that first night. Thinking about that night and the nights following it made her blush deeper.

 

She shivered in the cage and Jon drew her into his arms, wrapping his cloak around the two of them. She almost resisted him at first, stiffening in his arms awkwardly but it was so cold, she relented as he said, “Your cloak isn’t warm enough. Didn’t Robb get you anything warmer?”

 

“Yes, but it was left behind at the…” she trailed off.

 

Jon shook his head. “I’ll see that you have another. They might not be as nice as what you’re used to but it’ll be warmer.”

 

Deirdre didn’t want to admit  that she was warm enough when sharing his cloak but she was. Robb had seemed warmer than her all the time but Jon seemed even warmer in the coldest weather. He rested his cheek on her forehead drawing her further into his cloak. For a few moments she could forget what troubled her, even her hurt and angry feelings towards Jon, and just feel at peace, despite the howling wind and the noise of the lift. Jon’s gloved thumb massaged her jaw while his fingers rested on the back of her neck. When the lift stopped, he pulled away slightly and his gaze lingered on hers.  She found herself unable to look away.

 

“Jon?” a voice asked quietly before chuckling. “Are you getting out?” The two of them pulled apart quickly as if caught doing something they shouldn’t and Deirdre saw a handsome, young dark haired man.

 

“Deirdre, this is Satin. He fought by my side when Castle Black was attacked,” Jon explained as they exited the cage. “Satin, this is…my betrothed, Lady Deirdre Stark.” The word sounded so strange from him and she sensed it was the first time he’d thought of her that way.

 

“I have heard much and more about you, Lady Stark,” Satin said with a quick bow. “But I first heard of you during the war as the Queen in the North. Even here in Castle Black, we heard tales of you and The Young Wolf.”

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. Satin is an interesting name,” Deirdre replied and the young man chuckled with a glance to Jon.

 

“A story for another time,” Jon answered quickly, as if he did not want her to hear the story at all.

 

Satin nodded and got on the lift. “I’ll send it back up for you. I don’t know how long you intend to stay up here but the wind is brutal tonight so it’s doubtful that you will want to stay long.”

 

After thanking Satin, Jon took Deirdre’s hand in his and led her down the path before they reached the Wall, then toward one of the fires that sat about for the men of the Watch. The two men up there nodded to them as they neared the edge.

 

“Careful, it’s slippery,” Jon warned her wrapping his arm around her waist. Deirdre was speechless seeing out over the Wall. Everywhere she looked there was a field of white, snow and ice, as far as she could see.

 

“It’s amazing,” she whispered.  She looked down the Wall and saw how it went on in each direction forever, a huge winding snake. Snow fell but it was colder than the snow at Winterfell, not even melting on the heat of her skin.

 

Jon watched her for a moment before leading her further down the Wall away from the men. “It’s best if you don’t look down. There are still many remnants of the battle, including dead giants and mammoths.”

 

“Giants?” she chuckled but despite his warning she looked down, gasping in surprise. “I never believed they existed. How were they killed? They look too big to kill.”

 

“Everything can be killed,” Jon said softly, thinking of his family and his black brothers that he’d lost. “Although it wasn’t easy.” He pointed to the west and said, “That’s the Haunted Forest and all the way to the East is the Frostfangs and beyond that are the Frozen Shore and the Bay of Ice, where Ned is from.” Pointing in the other direction he said, “We went through that part there to Craster’s Keep first then went on to the Fist of the First Men. Then I went further north with the Wildlings.”

 

“Craster is Gilly’s father, right?” Deirdre asked and Jon nodded. “Weren’t you terrified? There is nothing but snow and ice. You could have frozen to death.”

 

“Of course, I was afraid sometimes. More so with the Wildlings because there were so many of them and I feared they’d discover the truth about me,” Jon admitted. “Then I was forced to do things that I knew were wrong…I didn’t want to betray my brothers.”

 

Deirdre watched him for a moment before saying, “You’re so brave…I mean…I always knew you were brave, Jon, but I didn’t realize how much so. I can’t imagine being surrounded by the enemy and just having only yourself to count on.”

 

Jon looked away and she could tell he felt uncomfortable but she stepped closer to him, turning him to face her. For a few moments she forgot her anger towards him and saw him as Robb’s brother, always needing acceptance, and said, “Your father would be so proud, Jon.” Tears burned her eyes. “As would Robb and your brothers and sisters. They would be _so_ proud of what you’ve done and how brave you were. Are you sure you want to leave the Night’s Watch after all that you’ve achieved? You’re respected…you’re a hero here.”

 

“I was never a hero. I’m still a turncoat in their eyes and now I’m no longer one of them,” Jon replied with a shake of his head. “I’ve lost their respect.”

 

“Yes, you _are_ a hero. I hear how they talk about you holding the Wall.” A chill ran through her and she shivered.

 

“Let’s get you inside before you freeze,” Jon replied.

 

They returned to the lift and began the slow journey down. Deirdre allowed him to wrap his cloak around her again and leaned into him, absorbing his heat. He tightened his arms around her, saying, “I think for the first time I realized I will soon be your husband.”

 

“I’m not sure that’s a blessing or a curse,” she whispered in reply. “I’ve lost two husbands already.”

 

Jon looked into her gaze and ran his fingers down her face. “And I’ve already lost you once. I don’t want to lose you again.”

 

__


	16. Chapter 16

 

 

_A/N Thank you to CalliopeGalaxy for the beta! And thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback!  
_

**Chapter 16**

 

Deirdre didn’t answer Jon’s comment, leaving the rest of their ride silent. She knew in her heart that he had never stopped loving her but she didn’t know how to feel about it. Her love and feelings of loss for Robb was overwhelming her heart now. Every time she looked at her young sons, she was reminded of her husband. At times she could still hear his voice as he would talk to his sons while she was pregnant. Or feel his touch and remember his smile. But in honesty, Jon had always been there as well, through her sons’ connection to the wolves and possibly whatever lingering feelings she had. Jon had haunted her dreams then and Robb haunted her now. Her heart was too broken to properly know what she was feeling, other than feeling weak and lost.

 

They stopped by the kitchen on their way to his chambers and Deirdre waited while he talked to the cook. He returned with a basket of what she assumed was their supper. They walked down awhile to his chambers.  By the time they reached them, Deirdre was shivering so much that Jon made her sit on the floor in front of the fire while he prepared their food.  Bringing it to her, he sat down beside her. She realized for the first time how hungry she was, not having eaten much in the last few days.

 

“Lamb? How did you get lamb here? I thought you all survived on that stew,” Deirdre exclaimed with a small smile.

 

“It took a lot of coaxing but the cook managed to round up some lamb. Probably with the food he was making for the king. I thought you might enjoy something different,” he said, clearly pleased with surprising her. 

 

Tasting the food, Deirdre moaned quietly. It had been so long since she’d had a regular meal. One thing she missed from Casterly Rock and King’s Landing – the food. This wasn’t much, very simple really, but it was hot and it was an actual meal not some meat thrown into a pot with water and a few potatoes.

 

“It’s embarrassing how the one thing I miss from Casterly Rock is the food,” she said. “And the food in King’s Landing was also amazing: so many feasts plus the different cultures and each with their own delicacies.” Jon listened to her intently while he ate. “Although if you’re not careful, you might eat something you had no desire to.”

 

Raising his brows quizzically, he asked, “Like what?”

 

“One time I ate cat without knowing. After that, I _always_ asked. A man from the Free Cities tried to feed us dog, but I refused, and horse meat as well. The way they prepare some of the fish that they eat is repulsive.  One time a tavern owner brought Tyrion, Jaime, and I sweetbreads. I thought it was actually _sweet_ bread until they brought it out. When I asked the man what it was, I had to leave the table immediately.”

 

“It couldn’t be _that_ bad. What is it?”

 

“It’s the glands of animals, things like their tongues, their throats,” she replied with a laugh. “It’s vile! Even Tyrion couldn’t eat it once he found out they were also testicles, although Jaime dared him and I thought he might.”

 

Jon chuckled with her as he poured her some wine. “I’ve never been to the south so I don’t think I’ve ever eaten anything so exotic, but north of the wall they eat whatever they can find – fish, horses that have died, _other_ things…you learned to be grateful for what you could find. And nothing was cooked with any skill.”

 

“I was lucky I was born into a life where I never had to worry about food. I know I’ve been blessed with many things others haven’t but food and shelter more than anything. Food at Winterfell and the rest of the north is very different from the south. It’s heavy and hearty. I miss fruits most of all: fresh peaches so ripe that they explode into your mouth, plums, grapes, and strawberries, oh what I wouldn’t do for some strawberries now. One day perhaps we can go south if only for awhile to eat all of the best things.” She sighed. “I’m grateful for what we have here though considering that a lot of Westeros is starving now, but I do miss some things from the south.”

 

“When we rebuild Winterfell, we’ll find a way to grow these fruits you miss in the glass gardens,” Jon promised, reaching out to take her hand gently. “I don’t know much about it but I’m sure we can find someone who does. We’ll bring some of your home back to you.”

 

Deirdre stared at their intertwined hands and was quiet for a few moments before saying, “Forgive me, Jon.” Tears welled in her eyes as she looked at him. “The whole journey to the Wall I wanted Robb with me so much. I pleaded and begged for him. The only thing that kept me from going mad was knowing that if we reached the Wall, you’d keep me safe. I knew no matter what, you’d save us. And you have but I acted like an ungrateful child, hurting you with accusations of betraying Robb. I was so selfish and cruel to you. You’ve lost your whole family only to have me call you protecting us a betrayal.”

 

Jon stopped eating and looked down for a moment, the color rising in his face. She reached out and caressed his cheek and his gaze returned to hers. “Despite how I challenged you at every turn, you continued to keep me safe. I can’t promise you that we’ll have an easy marriage or that things will be as you deserve but I’ll try to be a good wife to you. I know you deserve _at least_ that. Perhaps one day it can be more…but part of my heart died with Robb. I cannot give you what I no longer have to give. I wish I came to you whole and undamaged.”

 

Jon reached out, caressing the sides of her face. “You’re not _damaged_ , only wounded. Time will heal this pain, if you let it. I’ve always known you were stronger than you wanted to believe. But I want you to let go of the vengeance you seek. Let me avenge my family, my brothers. I want you spared all of that bloodshed and the bitterness.”

 

She shook her head slightly, pulling away from him. “I don’t know that I _can_ let it go. The hatred wakes me in the night at times and all I can hear are the sounds of men being slaughtered and Grey Wind howling for Robb. And each time, another small part of me dies. I cannot imagine a day when those sounds will not haunt me and taint everything good and pure in my life. Each time I hold my children, I think of what could have happened to them, what could _still_ happen to them. And I think of little Rickon and Bran…I can’t watch my sons die, like Lady Catelyn did. Jon, I’m so terrified now knowing how protected Robb was and he was still slaughtered. And what happened to my husband could happen to my children.”

 

She sobbed aloud and Jon quickly took her plate from her, pulling her into his arms where she wept, her face buried in his chest. She had never felt so powerless to protect those she loved, as she had since her sons’ birth, and it was now that she needed to be strong. She felt so ashamed of her weakness. Dacey would never be so weak, neither had Lady Stark or Lady Mormont ever been, despite what they faced. Deirdre had been the queen and she was a Lannister! She should be strong enough to bear this with more grace than tears.

 

After she forced herself to calm down and dry her tears, Jon spoke quietly, “You told me that you know that I’ll keep you safe, right?”

 

“Yes,” she replied. “Robb tried to keep me safe as well, but lost his own life.”

 

“I know this is hard for you, the hardest thing you have had to bear but you must let this grief for Robb go,” Jon whispered. “You cannot live in the past anymore. He’s gone, Deirdre, and he’s not coming back no matter how many tears you shed. I do not mean to sound cold but he would not want your heart or any part of you to die with him. Let him go. You must live without him.”

 

Deirdre felt a rush of anger at Jon explode in her body and wanted to tear him apart. She pushed against his chest but he held her tightly as if expecting her to strike out at him. “Deirdre, _please_ , Robb would not want you to follow him into the grave. You… _we_ must survive this. Or his enemies have already won.” She could hear the pain in his voice and her grip tightened on him. Trembling, eventually her anger left her leaving her feeling exhausted. She knew Jon was right. Robb would not want her to suffer so, would not want her happy memories of him to be consumed with the horror of his death.

 

“I cannot promise you that it will be easy or that we will not suffer losses. But I won’t allow you or Brandon or Benjen to ever be hurt. I promised you I wouldn’t leave you so you must trust in this. Please, let go of the pain from the past. Remember your happiness with Robb, remember the laughter and love with Bran, Rickon and Robb. I need you to hold onto that so you can help me restore Winterfell to what it was: for Brandon and Benjen, if not for us.”

 

Deirdre held onto him, wishing things had been different for them, for all of the Starks. But she had suffered enough to understand that wishes and dreams weren’t enough. She had to force herself to be brave, for her children if for no other reason. After a moment she nodded. “I’ll try. I want that for my sons. And if you and I should have another…well, someday our children deserve that as well.”

 

“Our children,” Jon said quietly with a sense of awe to his voice. “My wife, my children, my home, my lands – it’s still hard to fathom that I will have these things.”

 

“You’re Lord Stark, Jon. Just like your father,” she replied sitting up to look at him. “Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.”

 

Jon shook his head. “No, I’ll be those things when I win back Winterfell and the North. I’ll be your husband soon. I want to be a good husband but I don’t know how.”

 

“It’s not something you _know_. It’s something you’ll learn.” She smiled slightly. “You’ll make mistakes, just as I will, but marriage means compromise and understanding plus lots of forgiving.”

 

“I’m afraid…” he trailed off, looking uncomfortable.

 

“Of what? Tell me. It’s almost comforting to know that someone other than me is afraid.”

 

Jon ran his fingers through her hair slowly before answering. “I’m afraid that I’ll never make you as happy as Robb did,” he admitted. “I’ve hurt you so much already. I could make you even more unhappy. What if you’re never as happy as you were with Robb?”

 

She thought for a moment before smiling sadly. “Robb made mistakes and didn’t always make me happy, I assure you. There were times when we barely spoke or we yelled and screamed at each other. There was the time that…” Her voice trailed off. She couldn’t speak of what almost happened with Robb and Talisa. It seemed like a betrayal to Robb to even mention it now. “I used to remind Robb he wasn’t living in your father’s shadow or yours. I guess now I’ll have to remind you of that as well. Jon, I’m not a child and you cannot fix everything for me. Some things will just take time and other things you can’t control. We cannot marry expecting our marriage to be like Robb and mine. I’m not saying it will not be good, but no matter what it will be _different_ : as it should be. You’re not Robb.”

 

“I want to make you happy though,” he whispered, reaching out to caress her face. “More than anything I want to make you happy and for you and your sons to feel safe with me.”

 

“I already feel safe with you.” Deirdre leaned forward, intending to rest her head on his chest but without thinking, she kissed him, surprising herself almost more than him. When she pulled back, Jon watched her as the two of them remained very close together. He moved his hand to the back of her neck and licking his lip, he leaned forward, kissing her gently. It should feel strange to kiss someone other than Robb but Jon seemed...like home. She sighed, closing her eyes as Jon’s other arm wrapped around her waist and brought her to sit in his lap. When her eyes opened, he was watching her closely. She knew he waited for her to either stop him or continue but she was paralyzed with doubt and fear. After a moment, Jon nuzzled her neck, holding her in his arms. It was an innocent embrace, especially for the two of them considering their history, but it left her tingling where he touched her. Warmth spread through her body and it had nothing to do with the fire in the hearth.

 

Deirdre was so confused, her mind raced. Her heart belongs to Robb but Jon had woken some of the feelings she had felt before for him: the feelings she had convinced herself were not real or, at least, long gone. And she could barely remember the anger she felt towards him before tonight. She wondered if her grief made her cling to the one man it was safe to do so. But each kiss made her feel both guilty and _alive_. She didn’t want to give Jon false hope that she could ever love him as much as she had loved Robb. She didn’t want to hurt Jon again. But what if she had never stopped loving him? 

 

“Is it wrong that I want you?” he whispered, looking deep into her eyes. “I want you in my arms, in my bed, always by my side. Stannis forced this marriage on us, it’s true, but I rejoice at you being my wife. It meant more to me than taking the name Stark. I would have married you as Jon Snow, if I didn’t think you deserved more than a bastard.”

 

Deirdre swallowed hard and shook her head. “It’s not a matter of worth. I don’t care about that, I never did. I didn’t marry Robb because he would be king. I’ve never dreamed of marrying knights and princes. I was married to a knight that was horribly cruel to me and then a king who I loved and that was murdered. I don’t think about marriage in the same way others might.”

 

“You want love and protection,” Jon said simply. “Is that all you want now?”

 

Deirdre shook her head. “I want kindness, passion, and friendship as well. Robb was my best friend, not just my lover. I don’t think many wives are that lucky, though.”

 

“We’re already friends,” Jon pointed out and his eyes drifted from her face down her body. “And we’ve been lovers. I will always be kind to you and give you love and protection. I do not wish to replace Robb. But I would be lying if I didn’t admit I want what he had as well. What man would be fool enough to not want the marriage that you shared with Robb? I think we still share passion unless I am dreaming this.” His gaze returned to hers and he kissed her again.

 

His kiss was so powerful and full of love, it scared Deirdre. The fire that always lay beneath the surface with Jon affected her long ago and no less so now. But he seemed more in control of it now. His lips teased hers before covering her mouth, his tongue dipping in slowly like he savored her taste. His grip tightened around her as he intensified the kiss, his tongue sucking hers into his mouth. They both moaned softly and her hands moved up his chest. His mouth left hers and she gasped for breath, leaning into his hot lips trailing up her jaw then moving to her neck.

 

“Jon,” she whispered, trying to think straight but she felt him moving her backwards and he followed, caging her beneath him. “We shouldn’t. I know we’re to be married soon, but we shouldn’t get carried away,” she finally managed to say.

 

“I won’t,” he promised but his lips continued moving on her neck and his hands soon were caressing her sides, moving towards her breasts. “I want to touch you. I just want to feel your skin again.” His voice was thick with desire that seemed to plead with her. So when his fingers moved to her shoulder, pushing aside her gown, she didn’t stop him. When his mouth followed to suck on her bare skin, she said nothing, her hands moving down his chest to his stomach, moving under his tunic to touch his hot bare skin. Jon caressed her breasts through her gown but moved the fabric low enough that he could kiss the tops of them, then moved his mouth in between them.

 

Deirdre’s fingers dug into his side. “Jon….we should…” she began but she was having problems thinking straight. This was wrong: she was his brother’s widow. Robb had only been gone a short time. It was too soon. But this was Jon, her husband to be,and the first man she had ever loved, the one who awoke passion in her to begin with and, even now she couldn’t deny him, she didn’t _want_ to deny him. His mouth rose to claim hers again and he pressed his body against hers, making her more than aware of his desire for her. And she wanted to touch him as well.

 

“I wish we could be married in the Godswood at Winterfell where I first kissed you,” he whispered, holding her gaze. “And make love in my bed like before. You deserve more than the wedding you’ll have here.”

 

“Jon, I’ve been married twice before. I wish you could have the wedding you wish for though,” she admitted.

 

“I’ll have the wife I wished for,” he replied, kissing her again.

 

Breaking away from their intense kiss, Jon placed light kisses on her lips before pulling back. “You’re right, though. We should wait for our wedding night.” Looking down at her, he smiled. “Your lips were made for kissing though.” Sitting up, he helped her straighten her gown.

 

“Stannis has agreed we can get married in front of the Weirwood nearby unless you wish to have a septon there. There is one here,” he said, taking her hand.

 

“No, the Weirwood tree is fine. I’m surprised. I thought Stannis intended to force you to renounce the Old Gods.” She had heard how insistent he was with his soldiers honoring the Lord of Light.

 

“He intended for me to as well as the rest of the Northern lords. I convinced him that he’d never gain any loyalty or footing with the Northmen if he attempted that with them. Despite the fact he worships this Lord of Light…I do not think he’s as committed to the north renouncing our gods as Lady Melisandre is. She wishes us all - the Night’s Watch, the North, all of Westeros – to worship her god. But even the Andals weren’t capable of forcing the North to change their gods.”

 

She smiled at him, saying, “You’re already behaving like a true leader: defending your people’s rights to keep their own gods.”

 

Suddenly, Jon looked guilty and very concerned. “I’ve debated on telling you this because I don’t want to worry you further. I do not want Melisandre alone with you and the boys. She believes _one realm, one god, one king._ One of the brothers overheard her talking to Stannis about sacrificing Mance’s son because she says that the blood of a king has the ability to wake a dragon. When I asked about this, Stannis assured me that your sons were not in danger because he had already given me his word on that. But I don’t trust _her_.”

 

“She would sacrifice a child?” Deirdre sat up quickly. “Any child? What kind of monster…”

 

“Deirdre, watch yourself. This woman is powerful and until we are safely away from here then you need to keep your opinions of her quiet,” he replied quickly.

 

Her eyes filled with tears and she whispered, “I want to leave for the Last Hearth the day after our wedding. Please Jon, I cannot stay here any longer. Ned told me that some of the Northmen intend on regrouping there with the mountain tribes if their castles are being held by the Ironborn and Lady Mormont intends to meet us there. Stannis wants you to free the lands the Ironborn took first but why not go directly to the Dreadfort? Bolton is the true enemy in the North.”

 

“As are the Freys, the Lannisters, the Greyjoys…there are too many enemies to count.”

 

“Jon, if we don’t hold Winterfell, we cannot rebuild the North. We cannot avenge Robb or your father without the North. Robb and I were given the stronghold Ramsgate near the Broken Branch River at our wedding. We could have Northmen meet there as well. If Stannis deals with the Iron Born, you and the other Northmen could attack the Dreadfort from Ramsgate to their south and cut off all of his support from the Freys and the Lannisters. I know that there are many still loyal to Robb.”

 

“We cannot take the Dreadfort yet. We don’t have enough men and it’s too soon. The Dreadfort is strong. I don’t even know how many Northmen are left.” He shook his head. “I know you wish to help and that you’ve been involved in the war since it began to some degree but your role has changed. You are no longer queen. And I don’t want you to be involved in the war any longer. I want to spare you the details and bloodshed of war if possible.”

 

“Jon…” Deirdre took a deep breath. “Do you honestly think that if you keep information from me I’m somehow safer? I’m sure your father thought the same about Sansa and now she’s being held hostage in King’s Landing.”

 

“As you pointed out, I’m not my father and I’m not Robb. You cannot expect me to do things their way,” he replied, running his fingers through her hair. “Part of this is selfish. When I’m with you, I can escape from that part of my life.”

 

Deirdre started to argue but stopped. She was going to have to learn to not expect Jon to be like Robb. For as much as they were alike, they were different. And Jon seemed to think of her in a different light than Robb did, she was seeing now. Robb wanted his wife to be his partner in everything and Jon seemed to want to keep her as free from the taint of war as possible. She wasn’t sure what _she_ wanted so it didn’t make sense to argue to be included if it she’d be happier away from it all. Robb’s relationship with her might have changed when their children were born but now she’d never know.

 

Robb had based a lot of their relationship on what he witnessed between his parents. But Jon didn’t know his mother, nor how his father’s relationship with her had been. She worried this had created some unrealistic expectation of what a mother was like to him. He was raised in Lady Stark’s household but she made it clear to him and everyone else, she was not his mother figure.

 

“Jon, you’re asking me to be a different kind of wife than what I know,” she began. “I understand you’re not Robb but I’m still myself, whether I’m with you or Robb. Please understand, it might take me some time to get used to these changes.  Be patient with me.”

 

“As you will need to be patient with me,” he replied, leaning forward to kiss her. “In some ways, I still feel like the bastard boy who still has to sneak around to be your lover.” His eyes lit with a twinkle of mischief and he said, “And that was so enjoyable, I’m not sure I wish it to be any other way.”

 

Deirdre blushed and looked down. He still had the ability to make her blush. He shifted their position so once again they were close enough to touch. His fingers trailed her skin from her neck down her shoulder, then he leaned forward to follow the trail with his tongue. Bringing his other hand to her face, he brought her close enough to whisper in her ear. “I want to make love to you right now. I still remember everything and so many nights I have dreamed of you. I’d wake up aching for your touch.”

 

Goosebumps ran down her body and she shivered. All of the memories of Jon came back to her in a rush and heat flooded her body. Jon took her hand, bringing it between his legs, pressing it against his hard bulge. Her lips parted slightly and her breath came out in a rush. Jon pulled back to look into her eyes. Seemingly of their own volition, her fingers moved to stroke him and Jon closed his eyes, biting his lip with a moan. His hand covered hers and pressed down harder.

 

Deirdre struggled with her own desire. It had been a long time and Jon was awakening things in her body that she couldn’t easily ignore.  His persistence wasn’t helping. Once again he was easing her backwards and she knew if she didn’t stop him now, they wouldn’t stop tonight.

 

“Jon,” she whispered as she put her hand on his chest. He opened his eyes and she couldn’t help but smile at his frustration. “You must be patient a few more days.”

 

He groaned, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers. “I know. Self-control isn’t my strong point when it comes to you.”

 

“You must.” She rose from his lap and returned to her spot a few feet away deciding it was best for both of them if they kept some distance between them.

 

She heard a strange sound at the door: a cross between a thump and a scratch. Jon’s eyes widened and he jumped up quickly. As soon as he opened the door, Ghost burst through almost knocking him down in the process.

 

“Gods!” Deirdre exclaimed, rising. She laughed, watching Ghost and Jon reuniting. After a few moments, the direwolf bounded over to her, smelling her before going to where Jon had left his food plate. Before either of them could stop him, he ate the leftover lamb on Jon’s plate.

 

“I thought he was dead,” Jon admitted, stroking the wolf. “Here boy. Let me get you some water.” Finding a bowl, he got the wolf the water.

 

“Give him my food as well. I’m full and he seems very hungry,” Deirdre said.

 

Jon gave him her plate and started inspecting the big wolf. “He doesn’t seem hurt, just skinny.”

 

“He seems small. But then he was never as big as Grey Wind was, was he?”

 

“No. But I think he’s bigger than when I left him. I wonder where he’s been all this time.”

 

Deirdre watched Jon for a moment, smiling. “I’m glad he found his way home to you. I know how you must have missed him.”

 

“It’s like a part of me was missing,” Jon admitted.

 

She thought about asking if he was a warg but decided it was too much to know now. “I should return to the boys,” she said quietly.

 

“Wait,” he said and went to his chests of clothes. Digging around he came out with a cloak that was simple cloth and furs but it was much thicker than the one she had on. “This will keep you warmer.” After fastening the cloak around her, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Soon, we’ll be married. Do you feel more at ease with that thought now than earlier tonight?”

 

She nodded and added, “I’ll feel better when we leave Castle Black.”

 

“Now I don’t feel like I’m leaving someone behind,” Jon said nodding to Ghost who had already curled up in front of the fire. 

 

Before she could open the door, Jon pulled her into his arms once more. Deirdre almost laughed when she noticed he smelled her hair. “What are you doing?” she asked with a smile.

 

Jon blushed before saying, “Even when we weren’t together, I could remember the way you smelled. The scent of you drives me mad.” He watched her with one of those looks of his that seemed to have the ability to fill her with heat and make her feel completely naked. She wondered if that was a Stark trait or if he and Robb had learned it somewhere. The thought made her giggle a little bit.

 

“I know we’re to be married soon but…” he began then he glanced away for a few seconds. “Nevermind.”

 

“What is it?”

 

Pulling her close to him, he whispered, “I just want to stay with you tonight. Not make love, just hold you in my arms. I know I should be patient and wait but we’ve been apart for so long…”

 

His voice sent shivers down her spine. She knew they’d never make it through a night of sleeping without something more happening.  Jon’s desire was a bit overwhelming at times. She wondered how Jon had survived without a woman as long as he had. Perhaps that’s why it was almost overpowering her now. Without realizing it, she had backed herself into the door so that there was nowhere to go.

 

“We can’t,” she whispered. “You and I, we’ve never had a history of self-control.”  He started to back away but she found herself digging her fingers into his arms to prevent him from moving. Even as she did it, she wondered what she was thinking. His eyes fell to her hands, where she clutched his arm.

 

“We don’t,” he agreed, looking at her. His hand was now in her hair, on the back of her neck, tipping her face to his. “If you only know how much I regretted not fighting for you, not running away with you. I know you were meant to be with Robb but I’ve spent the last year trying to remember how to breathe without you.”

 

His mouth was hot on hers, his fingers twisting in her hair and holding her close. Deirdre found herself leaning into him, her hands moving up his arms, then his chest slowly. Her tongue moved against his and she heard both their soft moans mingling together. Jon’s other hand moved to her waist, slipping around her and pressing her against him tightly.

 

When he released her lips, they stayed with their bodies pressed against each other, breathing heavily and staring at one another. She noticed that his lips were swollen from kissing her and knew hers must be as well. She remembered how she had always thought he tasted like winter. Jon’s hand rested in the curve of her back trailing his fingers up and down her spine.

 

“We…we should…go,” she stammered. Jon nodded but neither of them moved.

 

After another few moments he whispered, “Deirdre, if you don’t let go of me soon, I’m going to carry you to my bed and make love to you. I want nothing more than to do that so if you truly want to wait until our wedding night, you should say so now.”

 

Deirdre’s mouth opened and for a moment no words came out. She was struggling to say no. She knew she _should_ but her body was burning up and screaming for release now. And it would be nice to not sleep alone tonight. Jon hands moved to her waist to pick her up and quickly she released him, whispering, ‘No.’ He groaned in disappointment, cursing softly, and rested his head against the door.

 

“I’m sorry. It’s only a few more days,” she whispered.

 

He nodded, not meeting her eyes and she felt guilty for allowing it to go so far before saying no. “Give me a few moments to cool off,” he said stepping outside.

 

Deirdre noticed Ghost watching her and something about the wolf made her feel guilty, like he was judging her. It was completely ridiculous to think the direwolf knew or cared what they were doing.

 

How could she possibly make love to Jon now? She felt even more confused than she had been on her wedding night with Robb when she still loved Jon. At least then, Jon had lied to her and said he’d tricked her into his bed, which had made her so angry that it didn’t feel like as much as a betrayal. Her husband, his _brother_ , had died with her name on his lips and she already desired Jon. She was lucky that Jon had not been in Winterfell when she was married to Robb. At one time, she swore that she would never have had feelings for him again yet here she was. She felt like a horrible person.

 


	17. Chapter 17

 

 

_A/N Thank you to CalliopeGalaxy for the beta! And thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback!  
_

**Chapter 17**

 

After what seemed like forever, Jon returned, with a slight smile. As he walked her to her room, he kept his hands where it was proper. She sensed him grow tense and glanced over to him looking at the people standing in front of her door. Five of her guards and a handful of King Stannis’ men were waiting for them. Deirdre almost cried out in fear knowing that her sons were just beyond the door.

 

“Lord Stark, the king has sent for the Lady Lann…Stark. There was a raven for her,” one of the man said.

 

“And why was it not brought to me?” Deirdre asked sternly. She refused to let these men see her intimidation.

 

“It’s late,” Jon said his voice betraying none of the apprehension she sensed from him. “Surely it can wait until the morning, can’t it?”

 

The man continued to speak to Jon, not Deirdre as if she hadn’t asked him a question, “If it could, we wouldn’t have been sent. Do you wish to join her, my lord?”

 

“Yes. Once you let her pass to see her children, we will come with you.” Jon didn’t ask permission, she noticed.

 

Deirdre came into her room which was now full of people. Gilly and Sam were there with Dacey, Ned, and Adair. She had no idea where Patrek and Robert were since they weren’t outside. Her guards kept their hands on their swords she noticed instantly. Poor Gilly looked terrified. Deirdre took Brandon from her arms since he was awake.

 

“Sam, what did the raven say?” Jon spoke quickly as Deirdre took Brandon from Gilly’s arms.

 

“I don’t know. I wasn’t there when the maester received it. The king’s men have been here since shortly after you left,” Sam whispered in response. Deirdre noticed he was even paler than normal, other than the bright red that colored his cheeks and he seemed barely able to speak the words without a stammer.

 

“I tried to take them to Jon’s chambers to wait but they wouldn’t have it,” Dacey interjected. Deirdre didn’t say anything about Dacey being there because now that was the thing she was least worried about.

 

Holding Brandon close to her, Deirdre traced Benjen’s face with her fingers. He was sound asleep in Sam’s arms so she didn’t move him. Her fingers shook until Jon reached over and took her hand, looking into her eyes intently. “Stannis will not hurt you.”

 

She nodded then turned to Ned. “As soon as these men leave with us, take my sons and Gilly to someone else’s room please. Please Ned, promise me…”

 

“Nothing will happen to your children, Your Grace,” Ned assured her, addressing her by her former title without thinking. “Robert and Patrek are outside with horses waiting in case there is reason to believe we need to flee with the children.”

 

“Everyone needs to calm down,” Jon insisted, giving Ned a hard look. “There is no reason for panic. Stannis gave me his word that no harm will come to her or her children. He’s not Walder Frey.”

 

Ned stared at him for a moment and Deirdre could see the power struggle between them. She realized there would come a point where she’d have to put her faith in Jon for her safety, and not rely so much on Ned, as she’d been doing since Robb’s death.  But she’d worry about that at a later time. Kissing Brandon, she handed him back to Gilly reluctantly.

 

Jon took her hand and said to everyone in the room, “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about so do not do anything foolish.”

 

~*~

 

The king’s guards led them through the hallways up to the King’s Tower, reminding Deirdre of the last time she’d been summoned before Stannis. Like previously, he wasn’t alone. The Red Priestess watched her closely while Stannis finished his discussion with a knight she did not recognize.

 

“You insist on making me wait, Lord Stark,” Stannis said at last.

 

“I did not know you were waiting, Your Grace. Deirdre and I were having supper and your men wouldn’t come for me in my chambers,” Jon explained. “I’m surprised you would need to speak with Deirdre so late in the night.”

 

“Is it late? It’s hard to tell the day from the night here. But if you were just finishing supper, it couldn’t be too late for the two of you to come on an important matter,” Stannis said tossing a scroll from a raven onto the table in front of them. “Your future wife has received a royal pardon.”

 

Deirdre reached for the paper hesitantly. Stannis had already broken the seal, she noticed. “A royal pardon?  I assumed you had already pardoned me…”

 

“This is not from me,” Stannis said his eyes cold as he watched her.

 

Unrolling the scroll, she was surprised to see that Tommen had granted her a royal pardon for treason, if she came to King’s Landing and swore fealty to him. Her son would be Lord of Winterfell if she did so. Along with the pardon was a personal note from Cersei that it was time for her to come home to her family and said her mother was beside herself with worry for her. She reminded her that without her husband, it wasn’t safe for her in the north anymore and the Wall was no place for her children. She added that Tommen greatly wished to see his beloved cousin again. Deirdre smiled and shook her head. Using Deirdre’s affection for Tommen was a nice touch, but Cersei pretending that she or Deirdre’s mother cared about her well-being was amusing after all that she’d learned about her mother’s poisonous ways.

 

“You seem pleased by this,” Stannis observed, his eyes probing into hers.

 

“I’m amused, Your Grace, not pleased. Cersei must think I am still a naïve girl who would fall for her tricks and manipulations. If I were to go to King’s Landing, I’d lose both my children and spend the rest of my life in chains or worse. As long as Tywin still lives, he won’t kill me. He had loyalty to my father and I’m a Lannister. Gods forbid he earns the reputation of being a kinslayer,” Deirdre answered, her eyes never leaving Stannis’.  “But Tywin won’t live forever and we know he doesn’t have the same hesitation to killing children. Despite this message, my family considers me a traitor and they would never let Robb’s heirs live.”

 

“And your feelings for your young cousin, the king?”

 

“Not long ago you thought of him as your nephew so you know as well as I, Tommen is a sweet boy. He’s not to blame for his lineage. But he is the king in name only certainly. Tywin is in power and to some degree, Cersei,” Deirdre replied casually. Too late she realized reminding him of Cersei’s deception of Robert and his family, including Stannis, probably wasn’t a good idea.

 

Stannis studied her for a long time before he told the other man seated beside him to leave the room. Deirdre did not look away from his gaze, feeling as if he were testing her. After a few minutes, he rose and walked over to her. He seemed to like to use his height and size to intimidate people as he towered over her. “Lady Stark, I find it hard to trust you. Every time I look at you or hear your voice, I remember another woman much like yourself who convinced my brother for years that her children were his own.”

 

“ _No one_ suspected Cersei’s children weren’t Robert’s, not even her own family. I remember how much it shocked me,” she answered with caution. Subtly, she stepped back a few inches, needing some distance from him. “But, despite any likenesses of appearance, I am nothing like Cersei. And while my voice might sound similar, you would never hear the same treasonous lies from my lips.”

 

The silence stretched out for a long time as both Stannis and Melisandre studied her. Eventually after a glance back to the priestess lingering in the corner of the room, he turned back to Deirdre and said, “I want you to denounce your husband as king and swear fealty to me.”

 

At his words, she felt like the floor had collapsed beneath her and could only stare at Stannis in stunned silence. After a moment, she shook her head and despite the tears filling her eyes, she straightened her back and lifted her head. “Your Grace, I will swear fealty to you but I will _not_ denounce Robb.” She felt sick and terrified, wanting nothing more than to run from the room, run from Castle Black. But there was no where left to run for her.

 

Stannis hand reached out and took her chin in his grasp firmly. “You _will_ denounce him or you will be my guest, under guards, until you do.”

 

“Your Grace,” Jon exclaimed, moving toward her but two of the guards stopped him quickly, moving Jon away from her. A quick glance in his direction made her aware that he was not armed and could easily be overpowered by the number of guards in the room. But he still attempted to stop this madness. “Deirdre has renounced her son’s claims as King in the North and sworn her loyalty to you.”

 

Stannis continued to watch her in silence. Tears burned her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She would not cower before him. At last, she said softly, “Have some compassion. Do not ask this of me.”

 

“Kings do not ask. They command,” he replied. “I’m not a fool like my brother.  You are a Lannister before you are a Stark. If you don’t do this, you will leave Castle Black and be reunited with your Northmen, only to change your mind about your son’s claim. But if you declare your husband a traitor, you couldn’t later declare Robb Stark was a legitimate king.”

 

“But surely you see, if I declare my husband a traitor, I’ll lose _any_ and all respect and loyalty the Northmen feel for me. You said that my marriage to Jon would help you earn their trust. If I call Robb a traitor then went on to become the Lady of Winterfell, they will hate me just like they hate the rest of the Lannisters. They will think that I deceived my husband just as King Robert had been deceived.”

 

“The north will never stay loyal to her if you force her to call Robb a traitor,” Jon replied and she heard the panic in his voice. “And if I allow it, I would lose their loyalty as well.”

 

Despite Jon’s words, Deirdre saw nothing but firm determination in Stannis’ eyes. No one said anything and the quiet in the room grew so tense, she thought she would scream. Deirdre knew nothing to convince to him so she did the only thing she could think of and sank to her knees. Her hands shook as she spoke but she kept her plea firm, looking intently into Stannis’ eyes. “I beg you for _mercy_ , Your Grace. Do not force me to betray the man I loved enough to stay by his side and risk my own death by forcing me to denounce him. I’ve given you my word that I will not attempt to rise up against you when my son is older. I might be a Lannister but my sons are equal parts Stark and I swear by their blood that I will do nothing to risk their safety in an attempt for a crown. I will swear fealty to you, worship whatever god you wish me to, but do not command me to name Robb Stark, my sons’ father, a traitor. I _cannot_.”

 

Stannis did not move or speak at first. Eventually, he nodded slightly and turned away. She felt Jon at her side helping her to her feet, putting his arm around her. When she stood, Stannis studied her for another moment before saying, “Perhaps you are less like Cersei than I feared. She would never humble herself enough to kneel before me or anyone else.”

 

“Was this a test?” Jon asked, incredulously, his voice raised in anger. “You’re testing her loyalty by threatening her?”

 

“Not her loyalty: her quality and her honor. If she had declared her own husband, who she claims to have loved, a traitor, then she would have turned on me sooner rather than later,” Stannis explained calmly as he sat down at the table again, his attention now on the papers before him.

 

Jon wrapped his arms around her, attempting to calm her. She couldn’t stop trembling. Stannis could have easily have killed her if she had not given in but she couldn’t force herself to say it. Even if she said it only to placate him, she wouldn’t have survived it. Now he admitted it was a test, she realized how cold he could be.

 

“I expect you to bring me Lady Stark’s response to her cousins tomorrow when we discuss the treaty with the Wildlings, Lord Stark. You’re free to go,” Stannis said, not even glancing up at them.

 

As soon as they were outside the room, Jon turned and pulled her into his embrace, holding her tightly as she buried her face into his chest, biting back her tears. When she stopped trembling, Jon took her down to her room and sent everyone away with promises to explain in the morning. She heard him talking to her guards while she nursed the twins. Jon left for a few moments, returning with Ghost. The wolf came in and studied both of the babies for a few minutes, sniffing at them. When Brandon cried, Ghost backed away like he was unsure of what to do. The babes were fussy, sensing her distress.

 

“I thought you might feel more comfortable with Ghost in here tonight,” Jon said, taking Brandon from her. “You’re used to Grey Wind being with you at night.” He wrapped Brandon up in the furs and swayed him slightly trying to stop his crying. Deirdre watched him, too emotionally drained to speak. When he finally settled the boy, he laid him in the basket and took Benjen to put with his brother.

 

“Stay with me,” she whispered, reaching out to grab his arm.”I don’t want to be alone tonight.”

 

Jon hesitated only a moment before nodding. Deirdre got up and crossed the room to change into a sleeping gown. She kept her back to him as she did. Jon removed his boots and seemed uncertain for a few moments before she said, “You can’t sleep comfortably fully dressed.”

 

“I don’t want you to think I’m pressuring you to make love,” he admitted but rose to remove his breeches. He got in bed beside her with his smallclothes and tunic on.

 

“I had begun to feel something other than defeated earlier tonight…” she said quietly, staring at the ceiling. “But Stannis took that from me. I couldn’t say it Jon. I just couldn’t say that about Robb.”

 

Turning on his side, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. “He was cruel to ask it of you.”

 

Quietly she thought about her conflicting emotions. She glanced at him, saying, “When Robb died, all of his mistakes died with him. I never realized that until now. I can barely remember the moments he hurt me without feeling like I’m betraying him. But I know he nearly devastated me twice before. And both times were because I was a Lannister. Now Stannis can only see me as a Lannister. I wish I could say it was wrong, that there is some good that makes up for the bad. But I cannot think of the Freys, even those who had always been good to Robb and me, without an intense hatred. I would kill any one of them with no remorse. I will always be a Lannister, whether I wish it or not.”

 

“I don’t care about your name…”

 

“Of course you don’t. You’re a bastard, Jon. You were taught to be ashamed of your _own_ name so you would never be so cruel as to treat someone poorly because of their name.” Reaching up, her fingers trailed along the soft skin of his cheek. “In that respect, I think you are a better person than many of us. You were never as narrow minded and judgmental as we were. Lady Catelyn harbored ill will towards me because of my name and my feelings for Theon were colored at first by his family.”

 

“I don’t see you as a Lannister because you don’t have the same vile traits as Cersei or Jaime. And I do not hate all Lannisters. I was rather fond of Tyrion,” Jon explained. “I think it’s common to forgive the dead of their sins. As angry as I was toward Father at times, it’s hard to find fault in him now. And Robb…I miss him so much that it’s difficult to not want to defend his actions to Stannis and everyone else even if I didn’t agree with them. But even if you admit he had faults, it doesn’t take away from your love for him.”

 

“Stannis thinks I will betray him to attempt to gain power. It’s amusing because the only time I willingly accepted the power I had was when I needed it to protect others. All my life I was taught to represent the Lannister name through strength and cunningness: even to the point of coldness and cruelty. Perhaps that is why I was never comfortable as queen. I feared that eventually the power would turn me into Cersei.”

 

“You could _never_ be like her,” he whispered, staring intently into her eyes.

 

She was silent for a few minutes as she ran her fingers down his arm and toyed with his fingers, _absentmindedly_. “I don’t want to make love tonight,” she said, nervously. “But I enjoy kissing…and touching you. I just don’t want to cause you discomfort.”

 

“Kissing you could hardly be called a discomfort.” Jon smiled, stroking her cheek.

 

Deirdre rolled her eyes, saying, “You know what I mean.”

 

She began studying the ceiling intently like she was afraid to face him. After a moment, she looked at him shyly. “I don’t know why you make me feel this way.”

 

“What way?” His hand reached out to cradle her face and he pulled her closer.

 

“Innocent and inexperienced,” she admitted. “I’ve been married twice and you can still make me blush.”

 

“You once told me I was the first man you ever desired.” He kissed her neck, moving his lips up to the soft spot behind her ear.

 

“You were,” she said with a sigh. “I never wanted anyone before you.”

 

“And do you want me now?” he whispered, his tongue tracing her ear lightly and making her shiver.

 

She didn’t answer so he pulled back to look at her face. Tears glistened in her eyes as she nodded. “I feel so guilty because I do.”

 

Jon nodded. He didn’t know how to wipe away her guilt, or his own. “Robb would want us both to be happy.”

 

“I’m not _happy_ ,” she admitted. “But after the last few days, today I feel a spark of hope that someday I could be. At least with you, I feel alive instead of numb.”

 

Jon smiled at her comment. He felt more alive with her than he’d ever felt before he met her. Even if they were arguing or not speaking, he felt alive.

 

Leaning forward, she kissed him then nipped his bottom lip with her teeth gently. “I love your mouth,” she said, smiling. “Your lips taste like winter.”

 

“Yours taste sweet,” he teased, pulling her hips forward.

 

“I’ve always thought how pretty you were. I know men aren’t _supposed_ to be pretty but…”

 

Jon rolled his eyes and said, “Craster said I was prettier than most of his daughters and asked me if I had a wet twat between my legs.”

 

“You might be prettier than his daughters but I remember quite well what was between your legs and it wasn’t that,” she laughed.

 

Jon’s hands roamed her hip and thigh and he was trying not to think about what was between her legs too much but couldn’t help himself. “I remember what’s between your legs too,” he murmured. “It _was_ wet. And hot…” Groaning, he tugged at her gown until a shoulder was bare. Gathering her hair in one hand, he pressed open-mouthed kisses to her neck before sucking hard on her shoulder. He pulled her gown further down, her breasts nearly spilling out.

 

“Jon!” she exclaimed when she felt him sucking his way down her breast. “I already have two greedy mouths on my breasts every few hours.” She pushed him away playfully.

 

Flashing a smile, he claimed her mouth instead. His hand wandered down her back and pulled her close again. He loved the soft heat of her body. He was used to everything in his life being cold and hard. His whole world felt that way since he came to the Wall. Everything about her was unlike the rest of his world from her smell to her body heat. He kissed her until both of them were breathless.

 

Deirdre wrapped her leg over his as she kissed along his jaw then down his throat. Kneading the muscles of his lower back for a moment, she moved her hand lower and grabbed his bottom. Their kisses grew more urgent and heated as their hands explored each other’s bodies.

 

Jon urged her onto her back, keeping his knee between her legs. He brought his lips to hers again. As his tongue moved against hers, he pressed his hard length against her. He knew he was getting carried away but he couldn’t stop kissing her. He was so hard now it seemed he could hear himself throbbing in his head. And each soft moan, gasp, or whimper she uttered went straight to his cock. His hand moved up her bare leg, gripping her hip. Thin clothing was all that was between them now.

 

“Jon,” she whispered, pulling back a little. “What if it’s not as good as before? What if you’ve built it up so much in your memories that when it happens you’re disappointed?”

 

Breathing heavily, he shook his head. “Kissing you is as I remember it. Feeling your body against mine and your skin under my fingers is even better than I remembered.”

 

Her hands moved under his tunic lifting it slowly. He held his breath as she explored his chest and stomach before she made him sit up to pull his tunic off completely. Looking down at her, he groaned. Her lips were swollen, her hair spread out wildly on the pillow, and her gown pulled so low that he could see most of her breasts and it was the most erotic sight he’d seen in a long time.

 

Jon didn’t want to rush her. He knew she still loved Robb so much and perhaps she only sought comfort in their intimacy. But when she looked at him, her eyes full of desire, he could almost forget everything else. It helped that he hadn’t seen her and Robb together in love but Robb was a ghost that lingered constantly: Robb, who had given him control of Winterfell, given him his name, and trusted him to protect his wife and children.

 

“Jon?” Her brow wrinkled in concern as she propped herself up on her elbows.”Is something wrong?”

 

“No. I just have to remind myself this isn’t a dream.” His hand moved up her thigh slowly to the swell of her hip. She still had extra weight from her pregnancy but it increased her curves beautifully to him. He pulled her down the bed a few inches as he moved over her. Her kiss said she desired him but he sensed her fear.

 

Deirdre moved against him while her hands explored his back. Her movements made him ache and he pressed himself against her, hoping to ease some of it. “Gods,” he muttered before lowering his mouth to her shoulder. He kissed her full breasts, leaving tiny bruises behind with his sucking. Their hips moved against each other slowly. It felt like they were making love with their clothes on and it was all Jon could do not to rip everything off her and bury himself in her heat. She moaned his name, holding his head to her breast as her leg wrapped around his hip.

 

Jon wanted to taste her. He’d never done that before with her and the very thought of his tongue buried in her took his breath away for a moment. Rising above her again, he pressed himself against her as he watched her face. Every time his hard cock pressed against her, he could feel the moist heat of her through their small clothes.

 

“I want you,” he whispered, lowering his mouth to suck her lower lip into his mouth. His tongue teased hers as his hips grinded against her. Every time they connected, her nails would dig into his back and when he pulled away, she’d arch up to maintain contact. “We’ve been together before, neither of us are innocent. We don’t have to wait until the wedding night. I _need_ you.”

 

Deirdre shook her head, gasping out a small moan before saying, “I want to wait. A wedding night should be special. Since we’ve already been lovers, we won’t have that first moment together. But if we wait it will at least be the first time in a long time. We should stop this…”

 

Jon groaned in frustration, unwilling to admit defeat. He wanted her, he knew she wanted him, his body was pleading for release. He couldn’t just _stop_. To cool off this time, he’d have to stand on the wall naked. Despite her words, she made no attempts to stop him and continued to move against him.

 

“I’m aching for you,” he admitted, grinding his painfully throbbing cock against her.

 

Deirdre bit her lip and closed her eyes for a moment before looking back at him. “I could…you know…” When he didn’t answer, she stammered, “Like, at the hot springs.”

 

It wasn’t what he wanted but her touching him was better than a long walk outside. “And may I touch you as well?” he asked, shifting his weight so that he rested on his side, his body still between her legs.

 

She shook her head. “I’m not…ready for that yet. I’m sorry.” Her eyes rose to his apologetically.

 

When she reached for him, he grasped her wrist. “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. I don’t want to pressure you.”

 

“I know. I don’t want you suffering,” she replied with a shy smile. “I feel partially to blame.”

 

“You’re the cause, but I don’t blame you.” Her fingers traced his length through the fabric first and Jon had to bite his lip to prevent himself from crying out. He could sense her nervousness and hesitation. After a moment though, she pushed the fabric of his smallclothes aside and touched him. Jon moaned, his head lulling back onto the pillow.

 

“It’s so different, but yet familiar,” she whispered, her hand exploring him.

 

“It’s so…” His answer was cut off when she wrapped her hand completely around him and he once again found himself holding his breath.

 

Her movements were much more experienced now than before. Her thumb traced the ridge along the head while she stroked him, the pressure just enough that it gave him the amount of friction he needed.

 

“Deirdre,” he shuddered as her strokes increased in speed. “I want to pleasure you as well.”

 

“Not yet,” she whispered in response, dropping her head to nibble on his chest. She bit his nipple gently, barely grazing it with her teeth.

 

Jon lay back, pulling her onto her side. He attempted to turn her face to his and capture her kips again but she persisted in exploring his chest with soft kisses. His breathing was erratic as his hips began to move up to her hand. She looked up at him and asked, “Do you want it faster, slower…show me how you like it…”

 

Wrapping his hand around hers, he moved with her but his hand was guided by hers. He liked the unpredictability of what she did. Eventually he released her hand, raising it to tangle in her hair, once again attempting to bring her mouth to his, saying, “Its perfect just the way it is.”

 

When she began a new rhythm: faster but stroking from the head to the base fully, Jon stiffened, fearful if he moved he’d lose the perfect sensation that was driving him wild. She kissed him aggressively, nipping and sucking at his lips.  Jon moaned her name into her mouth as his release hit him, the sticky fluid hot as it puddled on his belly.  Her hand didn’t stop stroking him until he finished with a full body shudder, breathing heavily.

 

Regaining his senses, he glanced down at her to find her watching him closely. She stretched out beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Was that better than a walk in the cold?” she asked softly.

 

Jon chuckled, pulling her chin up to face him. “Do you need to ask? I feel guilty that I didn’t pleasure you in any way though.”

 

She shook her head slowly, her gaze lowering away from his. “I’m not ready for that yet. But I think this needed to happen.”

 

“What? What do you mean?” he asked, concern suddenly filling him.

 

“I needed to do this to be prepared to pleasure someone other than Robb. I don’t know if that makes sense,” she glanced up at him for a second before looking away again. “It’s different with you and I needed something to prepare me for our wedding night, something more than kissing but not making love. I felt like we’d come too far to say no to you again. It wouldn’t be fair.”

 

Sliding out of the bed, Jon tried to ignore the cold as he walked to the water basin, cleaning himself off. Bringing a cloth to her, he gently cleaned her hand and fingers before he spoke. “We can go as slowly as you need. Please, Deirdre, don’t _ever_ feel like you cannot say no. I don’t want you to ever feel obligated.”

 

“No, that’s not what I meant,” she said sitting up. “I wanted to do it. But I had to accept that I wanted it.”

 

Jon studied her for a long moment before attempting to clarify, “You desire me but you feel guilty for it, because I’m not Robb?”

 

Tears filled her eyes as she bit her lip and nodded. “I spent a long time convincing him…convincing _myself_ that I didn’t want you anymore. Now I miss him so much it’s like there is a hole in my heart yet your kiss sets me on fire. And I wonder if I ever stopped wanting you but only didn’t feel it because you weren’t there. Then I feel guilty, like I’m betraying Robb.”

  
“You got down on your knees before Stannis because you were unwilling to betray your husband, even to placate the king who has the ability to throw you in a cell or kill you without a second thought. Your love for Robb is obvious. You have feelings for me, yes, but it’s nothing compared to your love for Robb. You may never love me again but what we have is enough for now.”

 

“But is that fair to you? You’re getting everything second-hand: Robb’s wife, Robb’s children, Robb’s place at Winterfell. You’ve told me how you felt all your life, that you’ve felt you were in Robb’s shadow and despite it all, the two of you remained brothers and loved each other. Then you came to the Wall and there isn’t that brother who was always given everything you weren’t. I don’t want you to end up hating the thought of him or growing to resent me,” she admitted.

 

Jon thought about what she said and nodded. “There was a time when I would have been more resentful. When we were together I told Robb I couldn’t stand aside and watch my ‘better’ marry the woman I loved. I think it hurt him because Robb genuinely cared for you the whole time we were lovers but he loved me as well. I was so angry with him because he was marrying you and he married a woman I’d made love to first, a woman who still cared for me.”

 

“And now?”

 

“Now, I realize that I only have you back in my life because my brother suffered through losing everything. He lost the north, Winterfell, his wife, his children, and his own life. And it’s not fair. He should have it all, including you and his sons. I’m not getting anything second-hand. I’m blessed to be given gifts that I never earned, just because I shared the same blood as Robb.  And because he loved me,” Jon explained with a slight smile. “He gave me everything he had to give when he died. I could never resent him for that.”

 

Deirdre studied her hands for a moment, thinking. Wrapping his hand around her wrist, he pulled her to sit on his lap. “And I could never resent you because I see how hard you try to be fair to both Robb’s memory and me.”

 

A muffled cry interrupted them and Jon leaned back to retrieve the baby before he let out a full cry. For the first time since they’d gotten into bed, Ghost raised his head studying Brandon closely as he squirmed in Jon’s arms. Eventually when Jon got up to light the lantern, the wolf came over and sat watching them.

 

“Does Benjen ever truly cry?” Jon asked watching as Deirdre bared her breast.

 

“Not as often. He has to be very miserable to cry. Usually he whimpers and whines a lot before he cries. Unlike Brandon, who gives very limited warning noises before full-blown cries,” she answered with an affectionate smile.

 

Jon loved watching her nurse her sons. She caressed her baby the whole time, either trailing her fingers over his cheek, smoothing out his tuffs of hair or allowing them to hold her finger. It was so clear how much she adored her children. She was such a loving mother who genuinely enjoyed time spent with her children. That was one quality he had admired in Catelyn Stark once he was old enough to not resent her for giving them all the love and treating him with such coldness. Although he was too young to care when Arya and Sansa were born, he could remember how Lady Stark doted on Bran and Rickon as babies. Robb would be so proud of Deirdre’s mothering.

 

Hearing Benjen making a snuffling sound he turned to meet his blue eyes: Tully eyes, so like Robb’s. He lifted him into his arms and rocked him while waiting for Deirdre. The whole time Benjen watched him in silent curiously. He was going to be like his namesake, Jon knew.

 

In a few days he’d be a husband and a father all at once: the thought hit him out of the blue. “In a few days, I’ll marry your mother and I’ll raise you as my son,” he told Benjen. “I hope I do what your father would have wanted. You’re a Stark of Winterfell and that comes with great responsibility.”

 

Benjen took his fingers out of his mouth and smiled at him. Jon stared at him in surprise. “He just smiled at me.”

 

“Babes that young don’t smile yet,” Deirdre explained gently, wrapping Brandon back up to switch with Jon. 

 

“Maybe most don’t, but he did,” Jon insisted, taking Brandon and allowing her to take Benjen.

 

There was a loud knock on the door that startled them both and Ghost ran to the door, sniffing underneath. Jon quickly put Brandon back in the basket and grabbed his breeches and tunic.  He noticed Deirdre paled, despite knowing her guards were outside.

 

“Jon?” a voice outside called. “Jon Snow?”

 

Jon opened the door only enough to see who was outside, letting his body fill the doorway. Satin was outside, looking as if he had ran there. “Your uncle,” he said before stopping to drag in a lungful of air. “Your uncle has returned.”

 


	18. Chapter 18

 

 

_A/N Thank you to CalliopeGalaxy for the beta! And thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers thrive on feedback!  
_

 

**Chapter 18**

Closing the door, Jon sat on the bed to pull on his boots. “Benjen has returned. I need to go see him.” A smile on his face, he turned to Deirdre. “I’d almost given up hope. Will you be all right if I leave for a bit?” She nodded with a smile and he brushed her hair behind her shoulders, and then gave her a long tender kiss. “You should get some sleep. I’ll come back as soon as I can but don’t wait up for me. Hopefully tomorrow, Benjen can come to meet the youngest Starks.”

 

Deirdre smiled at him, reaching out to caress his cheek. “I’m glad he’s alive.”

 

~*~

 

Benjen had been taken to Maester Aemon’s chambers because he was suffering from frostbite, exhaustion, dehydration, and exposure. Jon walked past an older wildling woman and a young boy in the room next to Benjen, being tended to by another black brother. He stood in the doorway of Benjen’s room staring at his uncle for a long time. Benjen looked more like a wildling than a ranger now. His hair was in long tangled knots, he had a matted full beard, and he was wearing furs and rags. He was so skinny Jon probably weighed two stones more than him despite the fact Benjen was inches taller.

 

“Jon,” Benjen said with a tired smile and Jon felt a huge weight had been lifted off his chest. He hadn’t realized how much the loss of Benjen had affected him because of all of the things that followed so soon after including the loss of his father then his brothers.

 

Jon sat down beside him and gripped his shoulder, choking back the emotions that prevented him from speaking for some time. Eventually he said, “I can’t explain how glad I am to see you…I’d almost given up hope.”

 

“Lord Stark, he should rest so don’t stay for too long,” Maester Aemon said quietly from the other side of the bed. “He’ll heal. Hopefully the frostbite will not cause him to lose any of his fingers. But a couple of his toes were more severe. We will see in time if any of them needs to be removed.”

 

“The boy and his grandmother?” Benjen asked, his exhaustion clear in his voice.

 

“The boy fared the best. A few good meals and nights of warmth, and he’ll be fine. His grandmother has suffered from severe exposure. It’s causing quite a bit of confusion and sluggish thinking. Unfortunately, it’s too soon to tell about the extent of her condition will be long term but we’ll keep watch on her throughout the night,” the maester answered and then left the two of them alone.

 

After the maester left, Jon turned to find Benjen studying him with concern. “Why did he call you Lord Stark? I don’t understand…”

 

Jon thought it was too soon to tell his uncle about the loss of their family and Winterfell yet. “So much has happened since you were gone, uncle. We can speak of it when you’re more rested. But please, tell me where you’ve been. Scouts were sent out. We even went beyond the Wall to find you.”

 

His eyes were haunted when he answered. “It was like a nightmare, Jon. We were attacked by Others. I will never forget their eyes and our weapons were useless against them. They killed Jafer and Othor. I was injured, near death, and two wildling women found me, bleeding in the snow, and dragged me back to their hut. Ella and her mother, Naneth, nursed me back to health. But when we attempted to come back here with Ella’s son, Garth, there was an army of Wildings marching to the Wall. I couldn’t risk their lives by them being seen with a crow, so we hid in a cave to wait until they passed.” A shadow passed over his face. “We tried again but then were set upon by wights. They killed Ella. Naneth and I brought Garth here when it seemed safe.”

 

“You saved their lives,” Jon reassured him, seeing the guilt in his eyes.

 

“I have a duty to protect. I only repaid a debt. I didn’t save Ella. Jon, can you make sure that they don’t send Naneth or Garth away? I’ll send them to Winterfell when I’m well but until then, will you please insure they don’t send them away? I promised them that Robb and Catelyn would allow them to live in Winterfell so Garth can be safe. He’s a good boy and Naneth is skilled in healing. They deserve a better life than worrying about White Walkers and the other Wildlings preying on them.”

 

Jon realized that Benjen didn’t know anything about Winterfell since he had left soon after Jon’s arrival at the Wall. Jon would have to tell him everything later but for now, he just reassured him that he’d take care of the woman and the boy. He left Benjen to rest and asked Maester Aemon to prevent anyone from seeing Benjen until Jon had time to tell him about their family. The Maester said he’d try but with the brothers doing a choosing for the new Lord Commander and Stannis in the King’s Tower, it was likely someone would want to talk to his uncle. Jon assured him that he’d tell him in the morning and left to get some sleep himself.

 

Adair and Patrek nodded to him as he approached Deirdre’s chambers. He wondered what they thought about him staying with her tonight, days before their wedding. He could imagine the disapproval on Ned’s face, if he’d been on duty, but Adair had been accepting of Jon’s new role and Patrek knew his loyalty was to Jon. Patrek having been around Jon as Lord Stark’s son, bastard or not, seemed to have carried a lot of weight with the Winterfell man.

 

“Stannis upset her greatly so I promised her I’d watch over her tonight,” he explained quietly and they both nodded. On one hand, he worried he shouldn’t stay with her to protect her honor but she had said she needed him and didn’t want to be alone.

 

Ghost lifted his head from his spot at the end of the bed, then stretched as he stood up, coming to Jon and nuzzling his hand.  First Ghost returned to him earlier tonight, then Benjen. He felt so much relief he hadn’t felt in awhile. Ghost was part of him and being away had left emptiness in him that Jon could barely stand. Benjen had always been his mentor and a father figure to him. There were things he could tell Benjen that he could never have spoken of with Father. Benjen had always seemed to understand Jon’s difficulty being the outsider.

 

Jon was quiet as checked on the children before sitting down to remove his boots. Deirdre didn’t wake and he leaned over to kiss her. She looked so peaceful, he didn’t want to wake her. He couldn’t resist a smile when he realized that in a few days, he’d go to sleep and wake up with her every day without having to worry about anyone seeing them together. He removed his breeches and slid under the furs with her. As soon as he did, she sought out his body heat and curled around him.  He kissed her forehead but his breath caught when she muttered, ‘Robb’ in her sleep, her arm wrapping around his waist.

 

Jon sighed, staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t even be mad at her or jealous of the man whose name she whispered in the night. It might be easier if he _could_ hate the other man but he loved him. Robb deserved to be happy. He deserved all of this. Perhaps in a way this path had always been before them. Jon had to love and lose her before so that now it would mean so much to him to protect her and make her happy. If Stannis had forced him to marry another woman that happened to be Robb’s widow, Jon would have had a harder time consenting. For now, he’d just be grateful that she was here with him and safe.

 

Jon dreaded telling Benjen everything tomorrow. Allowing Deirdre’s soft breathing and warmth sooth him, Jon fell into the first restful night of sleep he’d had since returning to the Wall.

 

~*~

 

Benjen was silent as Jon told him everything about everything about his time with the wildlings before he told him about their family, the fall of the North, ruin of Winterfell, and what had happened to Jon after Benjen had left the Wall. His uncle was always one of few words but the silence stretched out for so long Jon wondered if he’d told him too much, too soon.

 

“You have to find Sansa and Arya,” he said at last. After a long moment, he finally made eye contact with Jon. “Robb was right to send Deirdre here to protect his sons but you mustn’t forget your sisters. And regain Winterfell. Ned would want you to raise your family, the remaining Starks, in Winterfell.”

 

“I know.” Jon nodded. “I don’t know where to look for the girls but I will do whatever it takes. I’ll not give up hope. Uncle, I never would have agreed to Stannis’ offer if I’d known you were alive…”

 

“I gave up any rights to be Lord of Winterfell when I joined the Night’s Watch,” Benjen interrupted. “I made a choice to come here rather than ruling other lands in the north. My place is here. Besides, Robb was the true heir and this is what _he_ wanted. You owe it to your brother to take care of his family, just like your father did when he married Catelyn.”

 

Jon nodded, not commenting that they had already gone through this circle when Robb married Deirdre when she loved Jon. “I don’t know that I can do this. I don’t know that I’m capable of living up to all that Robb wished me to do, all that’s expected of me, all that his sons and Deirdre deserve.”

 

Benjen studied him and Jon looked away, feeling weak and like a child once more.  “Robb didn’t do all that he expected to do. Neither did Ned. Men rarely do all that they expect of themselves. You will do the best you can and it will be better than anyone else expects of you. I trust you’ll do well, Jon, just like your brother but you’ll learn from his mistakes. I do not mean that as a slur against Robb, but he and your father were both too trusting and believed most other men have honor. Their deaths, the things you’ve experienced here, have shown you that isn’t the case,” Benjen said quietly.

 

“I love her,” Jon admitted after a few moments, swallowing back the lump in his throat. “I’ve always loved her. We were together in Winterfell before…Father saw her one night and thought she’d been with Robb. Their marriage was planned before he knew the truth. Robb married her to protect us. And she loved him eventually, more than she ever loved me. She still does.” Tears burned his eyes and he swallowed hard. “I never wanted it to happen like this, I never wanted anything to happen to Robb, but I never stopped wanting her despite her being married to him. And now I have her but…Robb is gone…”

 

Benjen reached over and grabbed his arm. “You’re not to blame for Robb’s fate anymore than she is. But there is no reason to punish yourself by denying yourself happiness and love. It won’t bring Robb back. One day she may love you again but she needs time to grieve and heal. Robb trusted you to take care of her even knowing your history with her. So I know Robb would not begrudge you _any_ happiness.”

 

Jon nodded and looked at his uncle. “Wait until you meet your namesake. He looks like a true Stark except with Robb’s blue eyes. I can already tell he’s going to be smart. And Brandon is so much like Robb, through and through, bold, charming, and headstrong.”

 

“They must be special if you can tell so much about their personalities at this early age.” Benjen smirked. “Bring them with Deirdre later. I wish to see her again and meet her sons. I’m supposed to meet with some of the brothers in a little while. They want to make me Lord Commander. I’m a ranger.”

 

“You’re the best there is with Lord Commander Mormont gone. You know that. They trust and respect you. They need someone or else someone like Janos Slynt will take charge.”

 

“I need you to promise me something,” Benjen said as he sat up. “Take the wildling boy and his grandmother with you back to Winterfell. I owe them my life. I want Garth to have a better life than he’d have here at the Wall.”

 

“I’ll take them with us when we leave. Some of the Umbers, the Mormonts, and the mountain clans are coming here for the wedding. The Umbers wanted to have the wedding at Last Hearth but Stannis wouldn’t allow Deirdre to leave the Wall until she was wedded and bedded.”

 

“Stannis is no fool. There will be some that will try to convince Deirdre to reclaim her son’s birthright even if it’s not in his best interest. Once she’s married to you, she can’t do that as easily,” Benjen replied.

 

“She wants vengeance for Robb and for Bran and Rickon too now more than anything. I’m going to have a hard time making her understand that vengeance must wait before any more of the North falls into Bolton’s or the Ironborn’s hands. I fear that when it comes to vengeance she might be more of a Lannister than in any other way.”

 

“The North will always rally to the Starks. Bolton will have a hard time gaining any loyalty. Now, off with you for now. Let me rest before meeting with my black brothers,” Benjen said looking tired.

 

~*~

 

Deirdre had just finished bathing her sons and dressing them in their new clothes. Gin and Val had taken some of Robb’s old tunics to sew warm clothes for their sons. Benjen was falling asleep in the crook of Gin’s arm as Brandon lay on the bed making soft gurgling sounds while waving his hands around in the air excitedly. They were growing so fast Deirdre could hardly believe it.

 

“You’re going to grow too big for your clothes before they finish sewing them, sweet one,” she said as Brandon tried to grab her finger. His coordination wasn’t advanced enough so she placed her finger in his grasp, which he promptly squeezed and pulled into his mouth. “And you’re so strong already.”

 

“They are growing fast,” Gin remarked, as she put now the now sleeping Benjen in his basket. “They’re both such good natured babes.”

 

“Maester Aemon said they’re very healthy too. I worried that with the final weeks I carried them being so traumatic would have some adverse affect on them, but they seem to be quite resilient.”

 

A firm knock startled Brandon and he cried out. Deirdre picked him up and soothed him as she stood and opened the door, expecting it to be one of her guards or perhaps Val or Gilly. She wasn’t prepared for Stannis to be there, looking at her awkwardly. Both Jace and Tristan glanced at her with equal unease. Deirdre found herself unable to speak and simply stared at Stannis.

 

“May I have a word, Lady Stark?” Stannis said after a few moments of silence.

 

“Yes…Your Grace, of course,” she said, with a quick curtsy to him and mentally shook herself into action. She stepped out of the doorway, allowing Stannis to enter. “Please come in. I was trying to settle the babes but Brandon is resisting sleep with all his might. Gin, this is the king, His Grace Stannis Baratheon.”

 

Gin’s mouth dropped open before she quickly stood up, and then dropped into an awkward curtsy. Understandably, she had very limited experience in such behavior, but at least she tried and Stannis nodded for her to rise. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Deirdre excused Gin from the room.

 

“Would you care for something warm to drink, Your Grace? Gin just made some tea,” Deirdre offered as she filled an empty cup, while holding Brandon on her shoulder. She stood at the small table and, when she finished pouring, Stannis pulled out a chair for her.

 

They were both quiet for some time. Deirdre had no idea what to say to him and focused her attention on Brandon as she waited for Stannis to speak. She was surprised when he walked over to the basket where Benjen slept and looked down at him. His face was unreadable and he didn’t reach out to touch him like most people were wont to do. He just watched him for a few minutes of silence. He then returned to the table and sat down across from her, observing Brandon. His close inspection of her sons made her anxious when she thought back to Jon’s words about Melisandre’s wish for king’s blood.

 

“They both look rather healthy, given the circumstances of their birth,” Stannis said, focusing on Brandon rather than her. Deirdre could tell that she made him nervous, although she was uncertain why.

 

“They are,” she said with a proud smile. “Jon says Brandon looks just like his younger brothers did and I see so much of Robb in him. Benjen looks more like Jon and Arya, except his eyes which are just like his father’s, a Tully trait. They’re not very similar looking for twins.” She realized she was beginning to blather on nervously but couldn’t seem to stop herself. “Would you like to hold him?”

 

Stannis looked even more uncomfortable before saying, “No, that isn’t necessary. He seems to be content with you.” There was a few moments of silence again as Stannis sipped his tea.

 

Putting down the cup, he asked, “Have you written your response to your cousins?”

 

Deirdre shook her head. “No, Your Grace. And I don’t think I should. If I answer them unfavorably, then Cersei knows my true feelings and will start to prepare their actions or, at least, relay our possible actions to Lord Bolton. If I don’t reply, then she might actually believe that I will be foolish enough to trust her. The longer she believes I am that naive, the better, I think.”

 

Studying her intently,  Stannis grinded his teeth for a moment before saying, “It’s possible, but unlikely that Cersei is waiting for your response to act but if you think it will buy you some time, I will allow you to use your own judgment on that.”

 

Deirdre refrained from speaking her mind on him about allowing her to do anything and forced a small smile. “Thank you, Your Grace. I do think it’s for the best even if she doesn’t wait to act. My family always underestimates me so she might actually believe that I will be hopeless enough to come home or to King’s Landing.”

 

“My family always underestimated me as well,” Stannis muttered, staring absentmindedly at Brandon, who was now drifting off to sleep. He returned his gaze to hers and for the first time she saw something in his eyes other than aloofness. Perhaps not quite respect, but a few steps closer to it. “Your men are very loyal to you, more so even than to Lord Stark. And I’ve heard the tale of your harrowing journey to the Wall. I must say I’m surprised that Robb Stark would send you here of all places. Certainly he understood the dangers of the Wildlings.”

 

“He did,” she admitted. “But, he had limited options and he knew no one could be trusted more than Jon. The Starks have very strong bonds. And he feared having me and his heirs in Winterfell with his younger brothers because that would be where his enemies would expect us to be. After Bran and Rickon were murdered and Winterfell burned…he had even fewer options.”

 

He looked at her with confusion for a few moments before asking, “He’d lost his castle, most of his family, and half of his land. I don’t understand why he’d continue to fight if he had no desire to take the Iron Throne as you said.”

 

“He never thought he would lose Winterfell and the North to the Ironborn. And Bran and Rickon were safe behind Winterfell’s walls. Theon’s betrayal was…” she paused, her throat tightening, and she looked away to regain her composure. After a moment, she continued, “Theon’s betrayal was the beginning of the end. Robb and his mother lost so much that they ran out of choices. And that’s when Lord Bolton and Lord Frey abandoned them for Lord Tywin, slaughtering them after promising their safety and loyalty.”

 

Stannis nodded silently and once again, Deirdre wondered why he came to speak to her directly rather than sending her a message or telling Jon what he wanted. Eventually he spoke. “The Wildling princess, Val, is quite unrefined. She would not make a proper wife for one of the lords or the knights in my company. She needs someone who can guide her and teach her how to behave properly before I can even consider arranging a marriage for her. She’s already caused some altercations with the men here. I want her to join you and Lord Stark when you return to Winterfell. I need you to teach her how to behave like a proper lady.”

 

Deirdre was surprised because she hadn’t known that Val even wanted to be married.  And Stannis’ wife was coming here soon. Why wouldn’t he want his queen to teach her these things? As if he’d read her mind, he added, “Queen Selyse would not approve of her actions and outspoken manner and wouldn’t want her around our daughter. Her behavior doesn’t seem to concern you much at all.”

 

“What about Mance’s child?” she asked warily, wondering about what Jon had said regarding Melisandre’s desire to sacrifice someone with king’s blood.

 

“He will go with you and be a ward of Lord Stark for now. Eventually, I’ll send for him and the princess to be returned to my protection,” Stannis answered, his face betraying nothing and she wondered if he was protecting the boy or just didn’t know about Melisandre’s plans. Deirdre couldn’t help but think that perhaps he should have been concerned about protecting his own brother. But she was glad that he seemed to be rescuing the babe even if it was inadvertently.

 

Deirdre nodded and said, “Of course, Your Grace. Val has been very kind and helpful to me so I am perfectly willing to help her become more accustom to life on this side of the Wall. But even the high born females from the north aren’t quite so…for lack of a better word, proper. The social graces are not as important as it is further south. But I will do what I can.”

 

“I appreciate your help.” Stannis nodded and rose. When she began to stand up, he shook his head. “Don’t wake your son.” His eyes rested on Brandon before he frowned and said, “It’s unfortunate your husband did not live to see his sons.” Without waiting for her response, he turned and left the room.

 

Deirdre sat in bewilderment for a few moments before she rose and put Brandon in the basket beside Benjen. Perhaps Stannis wasn’t as cruel and heartless as she had feared.

 

~*~

 

Jon spent the rest of the morning making the final arrangements for their departure after the wedding then meeting with Stannis afterwards. He still was angry at the king for testing Deirdre as he had the night before but knew he had to put his personal feelings aside. Plus he learned Stannis had spoken to Deirdre alone this morning which concerned him but he knew Stannis would not appreciate being questioned about it so Jon had to wait until he could talk to Deirdre.

 

Stannis wanted to meet with Benjen when he recovered, assuming his uncle became Lord Commander. The Night’s Watch men were already working on it as soon as word spread that Benjen was alive and had returned. Ser Denys Mallister, Othell Yarwyck, and Cotter Pyke had put his name forth for the vote and already started soliciting support for him, withdrawing their own names from consideration in the process.  Janos Slynt’s support seemed to be only Ser Alliser now. Jon felt better knowing the Night’s Watch would be left in good hands. But he wondered how Benjen and Stannis would work together. Benjen is less likely to back down as Stannis wouldn’t be able to use Deirdre and her sons’ safety as a way to motivate him. And Benjen would put the Night’s Watch’s best interests and duties before politics, something Janos Slynt would not have done.

 

Jon had talked to Val about sending her to treat with Tormund Giantsbane. He knew as long as Tormund was beyond the Wall, the Night’s Watch was still in danger and so were any of the Wildings with Tormund. Jon’s plan was simple. Tormund’s people would be given passage through the Wall if they gave Jon and the Night’s Watch a few of their people as wards. Stannis would likely agree to it.

 

After the wedding, there would be a meeting with the Free Folk. They’d be given the choice to either live beyond the Wall or bend the knee to Stannis. Eventually the king wanted to populate the Gift with Wildlings, assuming the Lord Commander agreed. Those that bent the knee could remain at the Wall or go with Stannis and the mountain clans to free Deepwood Motte from the Ironborn. Jon was willing to take them after Last Hearth but Mors Umber hated the Freefolk since his daughter had been kidnapped by some of them.

 

Jon didn’t think this was the best way to treat with them but he knew that Stannis would never understand that he couldn’t demand fealty from Wildlings and expect to get it. Jon hesitated allowing any Wildlings to live at Winterfell or fight with him. Winterfell’s winter town was large enough to accommodate many and he could use the extra labor to rebuild the castle. But he also knew by nature they’d never adhere to his rule easily and he had enough to worry about with the Northmen. But he’d do his duty. He had no choice. After gathering what Northmen he could, he’d leave Last Hearth to meet with Stannis, bands of free folks, and they’d retake Winterfell. He dreaded seeing the condition it was in after it had been put to the torch.

 

It was late afternoon before he was able to sneak away to see Deirdre again. Ned met him in the doorway for a private word before he even got a chance to speak to her.

 

“Your wedding is in a couple of days so I ask you to be careful of her honor, my lord,” Ned began quietly.  Jon studied his face but before he could speak, Ned added, “Robb told me your history and I understand the position you’ve been put in. I can’t say I’d do any better but I do not wish for her honor to be damaged…”

 

Anger flared hotly in Jon but he nodded. He knew it had been unwise to stay with Deirdre last night even under the circumstances. Above all, he did not want her hurt by rumors or insinuations. He knew her men loved her and had grown to tolerate him at least. But they were loyal to Robb and in their minds, she was still his queen. At last he nodded, feeling like a chastised child for a few moments. Ned nodded swiftly and stepped aside.

 

“Ned, you need to remember that in a few days time, her welfare will be my concern,” Jon said tersely.

 

Ned smiled slowly. “When you take her as your wife, I will stand down. Until then, I must do what I think is best as my king commanded me to do.”

 

Jon eyed him with annoyance, realizing that Ned would test him at every turn until he proved himself. He could command Ned to go far away but Deirdre would never forgive him.  After the wedding, if Ned didn’t learn to respect Jon, he’d send him home. For now he’d just grit his teeth and tolerate it.

 

Brushing past Ned, he knocked on Deirdre’s door. When she bid him to enter, he did, shutting the door a little harder than he’d intended in his annoyance. Brandon let out a wail and Jon cringed. “Forgive me,” he said as noted Dacey sitting there silently. Deirdre had been crying.

 

“What’s wrong?” His first thought was that Stannis had upset her.

 

 “I asked her to tell me about her last moments with Robb,” Deirdre answered.

 

Jon thought Deirdre knew already how much guilt Dacey felt that she didn’t save Lady Stark and left Robb to die. He had already tried to convince her it wasn’t her fault but apparently she didn’t believe him. “I’ve forgiven her for drugging me, but there is nothing to forgive about what happened at The Twins. She did as Robb commanded, by leaving him. Lady Stark was probably already dead when she left even if she could have found her.”

 

“I told her that as well and explained you would not hold any ill-will toward her about leaving Robb,” Jon said looking to Dacey. “As your liege lord and as Robb’s brother, I would not lie to you.”

 

Dacey looked away uncomfortably. “My guilt remains as does my oath to only serve Robb’s blood. I know that Stannis means to separate some of us to go with him. Lord Stark, I wish to stay with you and Lady Stark.”

 

“Stannis is taking Jace, Balin, Gellion and Tristan. He wants to take Ned since he is one of the Mountain Clans. I’ve told him that Deirdre needed him, but I do not know if he will overrule me in the end. I don’t think he is entirely sure about the Mormont women. I vouched for their skills in battle but I’m not sure he believes me. Apparently your sister responded unfavorably to his raven,” Jon said as he sat down.

 

“Which sister? What did she say?”

 

“Lyanna. _Bear Island knows no king but the King in the North, whose name is **Stark**_. It didn’t help matters when I explained she was only nine years,” Jon said.

 

Deirdre attempted to stifle her laughter but could not.  Dacey just shook her head. “If Stannis does not want Mormont women to fight by his side, that is fine. We’ll fight for the Starks as we always have.” After a moment, she rose. “Robert and I are gathering the rest of our supplies we need for the journey south. I promised him I’d help him and Adair finish today. I’ll be glad to leave this place. King Stannis makes me feel like a whore in a sept.”

 

After she was gone, Jon reached out and pulled Deirdre to him, kissing her hungrily. She tensed in his arms though so he pulled back for a moment. “Is something wrong?”

 

“No,” she lied, turning away. “I’m just…I dreamed of Robb last night and when I woke up, you were gone. I wondered if last night was a mistake. The men most likely knew you spent the night with me, surely they suspect something happened between us.” She glanced at him with guilty eyes. “Stannis is forcing us to marry, no one will begrudge us that, but how will my guards feel if they think I chose to sleep with you before our wedding? Will they think I’ve forgotten Robb?”

 

Jon felt a wave of frustration crash into him. “I cannot do this. I cannot convince you every day that this is not a betrayal of Robb. Did he have to convince you every day he wasn’t betraying me?”

 

“Jon, it’s not the same thing. You know it’s not…”

 

“Yes, I know. You loved him and you didn’t…”

 

“That’s not what I said,” she interrupted, her voice rising in anger. “I was his _wife_. I’m the mother of his children. And he was butchered not long ago. _You_ told me to leave, you ended it with me, and then your father arranged a marriage between Robb and me. _You_ gave up on us but Robb _always_ wanted me. He didn’t want me for a time then change his mind only to act like a spoilt child when he found out someone else was going to have me.”

 

“I never changed my mind about wanting you! Did you love me when I ended it?” he demanded. “I don’t recall you putting up much of a fight other than warning me that if Robb tried to kiss you again you wouldn’t stop him and then, as per your usual, you ran away. You’ve put all of the blame on me but the only innocent party in our destruction was Robb.”

 

Deirdre glared at him before demanding, “ _Get out_.”

 

“I will not. You’re not the Queen in the North anymore so don’t attempt to command me. You’re to be my wife in two days and you cannot continue to run and hide from me when you don’t like something I’ve said or done. Nor can we continue to do this to each other. I don’t want you to be miserable but I’m tired of battling every day trying to convince you that we were always meant to be together.”

 

She looked at him as if he were mad before she asked, “We were meant to be together? So no matter what we would end up together: Robb dead, me a widow twice over, and you forced into marrying me?”

 

“You dreamed of me often when we were apart,” Jon pointed out. “I dreamed of you as well. In my dreams, I was always searching for you. Tell me, what did you dream?” She looked away quickly and he could see her hands trembling. “You feel guilty because even though you loved Robb with all your heart, part of you knew that you’d lose him, just as part of you knew you’d be with me again. Even Ygritte knew all along we’d be together again. I think Robb did as well. Why else would he write that will or tell Ned about our past?”

 

Jerking to face him, she said, “He told Ned about us? But…why?”

 

“I don’t know. I just know that something happened when we found those direwolves. Perhaps it was an omen as Ser Rodrik said. Something caused us to know things through the wolves. I’ve known for a long time, I’d never see my brother again. I didn’t want to acknowledge it and I hoped I was wrong. I’ve always known I’d find you again, even though I’d never betray Robb by attempting to win you away from him.” Tears suddenly burned his eyes and he looked down. “There are forces we can’t control. You were meant to be with Robb for the remainder of his life, to give him happiness and strength through to the end but then you were meant to come back to me.”

 

“This is madness,” she whispered. “You’re just justifying our actions, our passion for each other. But what you’re saying is that all of us knowingly played a part in Robb’s death and our reuniting.”

 

“Not his death, the end of his life – there is a difference. Our fates are always there before us. Robb would have died whether you were his wife or not.  Ygritte once told me all men must die, but first we’ll live. Robb needed to live and I’m not sure he would have without you there to give him an escape from the war and his grief. He would have live only with his vengeance. And now he always will live on through Brandon and Benjen,” Jon explained. She was watching him in silence, thoughtful. “You must stop closing yourself off to everyone, especially me, when you’re hurting. I don’t expect you to stop loving Robb now or ever. But _please_ , stop convincing yourself that we’re betraying him.”

 

She shook her head, tears in her eyes as she reached out to wrap her arms around his neck. Jon held her as she cried, silently. When she stopped trembling he heard her whisper, “I’m tired of crying. I feel like my tears will never stop. First it was the pregnancy and the strain of the war then mourning so many. I don’t know how to feel _normal_ anymore. And I’m so confused. Why must everything be so complicated with us Jon?”

 

“I wish I knew.” Pulling back, his hands ghosted her cheeks, wiping away her tears. “I wish that there were answers to put your mind at ease but I know in my heart you were meant to be with _both_ Robb and I.”

 

She kissed him, at first soft and gentle but soon growing in hunger. He lowered his hands to her hips and pulled her closer. He was surprised when she began pulling at his tunic, desperately trying to undo laces even as she straddled his lap. He pulled back and looked at her.

 

“Make love to me,” she whispered, her eyes searching his. It was a simple request and one he wished to fulfill but the sense of desperation in her eyes made him ask why. “Because I need it, because its real and it will make me feel alive again. Because I need _something_ to make sense,” she answered in one breath.

 

He hesitated for a beat before he said, “The guards are outside and the babies are napping. If I made love to you now, we would have to be rushed and quiet. Two things I don’t want to be. I want to wait and make love to you as my wife.” When a flicker of hurt crossed her face, he kissed her. “I _want_ to make love to you and waiting is hard for me as well. But you doubted what happened last night because you worried what others might think. I’m tired of sneaking around with you and having to keep quiet. And I don’t want you to regret making love later.”

 

She thought for a moment then said, “A marriage in the Godswood doesn’t require a septon. We simply need to stand in front of the weirwood and say our vows. There is no reason we must wait.”

 

“You were the one preaching patience last night,” he smiled. “I will marry you and make love to you in two days. And then every night after, I will make love to you until you grow weary of me.”

 

She looked disappointed but she nodded. Jon wondered what had driven this sudden impulse to rush. He felt it was more than just desire. Between losing Robb, having her sons, and living in constant fear, her emotions were constantly in flux and at times he wasn’t sure how to best handle them. When she attempted to move off his lap, he shook his head and held her in place. “I said I wouldn’t make love to you but I intend to kiss you.”

 

Before long both babes were awake and the kissing had to stop. Jon stayed and ate supper in her room before kissing and holding her until she felt asleep, then he returned to his own chambers. He hoped he’d done the right thing in waiting. He didn’t want to dishonor her again.

 

 

 


	19. Chapter 19

 

_A/N Thank you to CalliopeGalaxy for the beta! And thank you for continuing to read! Please review because writers need feedback and I never get reviews on here!  
_

**Chapter 19**

 

Deirdre’s guards crowded into her small room, waiting for her to speak. “I wish to speak with all of you about something important,” Deirdre said as she rocked Benjen back and forth.

 

“Is something wrong?” Ned asked, his brows furrowing.

 

“No, but things have changed now,” she said with a slight smile. “Tomorrow I will marry Jon and my need for protection will be lessened. I’ll merely be Lady Stark, not the Queen in the North, and once our marriage is known, people will also know that I gave up my sons’ claim to their father’s title. I won’t need as many guards.”

 

Robert shook his head, saying, “You’re still the Lady of Winterfell. We swore an oath…”

 

“Your oath was to Robb. Now we’re bound by other oaths to Stannis,” she reminded him. “You fulfilled your oath by bringing me safely to the Wall. Stannis intends to take Jace, Balin, Gellion and Tristan with him to Deepwood Motte. I do not know why he chose the four of you specifically other than some of the Umbers have declared for him as well as Winterfell of course. He’s assuming that Lady Mormont will support him since she is with the Umbers. He has not heard word of Houses Cerwyn, Tallhart, or Manderly, as of yet, and isn’t sure if any of them will swear fealty to Jon or Lord Bolton.”

 

“Lord Manderly would never…” Balin began but trailed off after a moment. “The Freys and Lannisters still hold hostages from the North. I do not know what my lord will decide if they still hold his son.”

 

Deirdre nodded, a wave of frustration coming over her. Her own family was still pulling the strings for the North. Even if Jon wasn’t a Stark, Winterfell and all its bannermen should have been Brandon’s by birth, but Tywin had made Bolton the Warden of the North as a reward for his betrayal of Robb.

 

“I do not know what the hostage situation will mean for the North. Even the Umbers have not all sworn to King Stannis since the Freys hold Lord Umber. Stannis has made his decision about those he wants close to him, but Jon was able to keep the other six of you, provided that you swore oaths to Winterfell and him.”

 

“Of course,” Ned replied. “But our true oath is to you as it always has been.”

 

“No,” Deirdre replied, shaking her head. “We all know that Robb insisted on so many guards because I was pregnant with his heir. Now I wish to ask four of you to become sworn shields for my sons, two for each of them.” Looking down at Benjen, now sleeping, she added, “I don’t want what happened to Bran and Rickon Stark to ever happen to my children.”

 

“My lady, it would be an honor to be your sons’ sworn shield,” Robert said softly. “I will protect them with my life.”

 

“I will as well, my lady,” Daryn answered with a nod.

 

“I love your sons,” Dacey replied with a smile. “But I wish to remain at your side until we return to Winterfell.”

 

“Adair and I are both Winterfell men. When Lord Eddard was my liege lord, I guarded all of the Stark children at one time or another,” Patrek replied solemnly. “It is only fitting that I continue to guard Stark children. We will guard your sons as well.” Adair nodded in agreement.

 

Turning to Ned, Deirdre said, “I want you to continue to be their leader, Ned. You’re the reason we’re all alive. If you hadn’t _forced_ me to leave the Twins, my sons would not have survived…I need to know you’re responsible for my sons’ guards.”

 

 “I had thought you’d wish to keep me with you…” Ned began and she could see the sadness in his eyes.

 

“I don’t need two guards and I care more for my sons’ safely now. Everyone here is strong and brave but Robb chose you as their leader, Ned. I want you to continue to lead but I want your focus to be on my children now, not myself. Even in the horror of the Twins, you fulfilled your oath and duty to Robb, honoring your promise to protect me even though it meant leaving him behind. I need you to do the same for me. Swear to me that you’ll protect them _even_ if it means Jon or I are at risk.”

 

After a few moments, Ned nodded. She knew he didn’t like the position she’d just put him in but he was the bravest of her guards and she wanted him to protect her children. He’d forced her to leave the Twins even though she saw in his eyes how much he wanted to go help his fellow soldiers and his king, who was truly his friend. All of the men were so loyal to her, she feared they’d be tempted to rescue her in addition to her sons and she couldn’t risk that. Ned would stick to his oath whether he liked it or not. He loved her and Robb and would never allow anything to happen to their children.

 

“I will miss having all of you together with me though,” she said sadly, glancing around at their faces. She trusted each one of them with her own life and her sons’. They’d been there for her during the worst time. “You’ve become part of my family. Once this war finally ends, you will all be welcome at Winterfell.”

 

When the war ended and Bolton had been defeated, she wanted her men to be rewarded with lands and titles, as Brandon and Benjen would not be alive today without them. She intended Jon to make Ned the Captain of the Guard when they arrived in Winterfell but each of her men and Dacey had always gone beyond just protecting her. They cared for her, Robb, and her children. In time, she felt sure they’d grow to care for Jon as well, once they could do so without feeling disloyal to Robb.

 

~*~

 

The next day passed quickly as they made the final preparations for both the wedding and the journey from the Wall two days after the wedding. Deirdre barely saw Jon but when she asked anyone, she was assured he was nervous but well. She couldn’t help but be amused at his apprehension. She remembered how calm Robb had been at their wedding, despite her being so nervous. But Robb was used to being in situations where all of the attention and focus was on him where Jon preferred blending into the crowd.

 

Lady Mormont and her daughters, Lyra and Alysane, arrived with Lord Umber’s uncle, Mors ‘Crowfoot’ Umber and his daughter, and a host of men and women from both houses. They arrived yesterday with supplies for the wedding feast. They were to lead Jon and Deirdre back to Last Hearth where Jon had called the banners, the ones he knew were loyal to him. They would gather the remaining loyal Northmen, other than the mountain tribes. Stannis would be working with Benjen, now that he had been voted in as Lord Commander, to resolve the issue with Mance and his Wildlings then Stannis and his men would march to Deepwood Motte, reinforcing their army with men from the mountain tribes.

 

Deirdre didn’t know what Jon’s plans included after the Northmen reunited but eventually he’d march to take back Winterfell. Roose Bolton was still south of the Neck, unable to advance past Moat Cailin, which was still held by Ironborn.  Lord Reed’s crannogmen were also preventing him from advancing north. But Bolton allies and his son’s forces were in the north somewhere. Jon didn’t like to talk about any strategy with her but assured her before they left Last Hearth he would tell her his plans.

 

He had also hired a wet nurse from Mole’s Town to travel with them to Winterfell. Aline was a young lady, only a couple of years older than Sansa, with a baby girl older than the twins. Her husband had been killed during a Wildling raid and, as soon as Jon met her, he realized that not only could she help Deirdre but she also needed _their_ help due to the fact she was raising her child alone with the winter coming and the unpredictable situation with the Wildlings. So far she seemed very sweet but naïve to Deirdre. Jon said she’d come to the Night’s Watch begging for help. Luckily, Gin had seen her and brought her to Jon. They had known one another and Gin had even delivered her daughter, Maddy. Jon worried one of the Night’s Watch brothers or the king’s men would take advantage of her plus he knew that Gilly had her hands full with her own son and Mance’s so he asked Aline to come with them to Winterfell. Deirdre wasn’t comfortable with others nursing her sons but knew that there were times that it was a necessity, including tonight because of their wedding.

 

Val and Gin had finished Deirdre’s dress the morning of the wedding. It was simpler than her last wedding dress but still was nicer than she had expected on such short notice.  She was pleased that they had taken in the sides quite a bit as her body was gradually returning to her size pre-pregnancy.  But what she had lost in her waist only made her fuller breasts appear even more so. The dress was lower cut at her bust than she had worn in the last six months and upon seeing it, she asked them to add some lace to it. But Val teased her that Jon would never forgive them if they did. Gin and Val were helping her prepare while Gilly and Aline took care of the roomful of young babes.  

 

Deirdre found the necklace and bracelet that Robb had given her and debated wearing it. While it had been a gift from Robb to her, it had been a gift from Robert Baratheon to Lyanna Stark first and Ned Stark had saved it since then. Deciding that it honored not just Robb, but also Jon’s father and aunt, and therefore, it was appropriate, she put it on. As Gin brushed her hair, Deirdre fiddled with the pendent, her mind elsewhere. She hoped this was her last wedding. This felt so wrong to her. Jon’s family should be here for this. But Benjen and her sons were the only family that remained to Jon unless they found Sansa and Arya. She was glad that Benjen was well enough to attend the wedding at least.

 

A knock at the door got her attention and she smiled when Gilly let in Lady Mormont. “I was hoping you’d come see me before the wedding,” Deirdre said, rising to embrace her.

 

“As it is unlikely I will see one of my daughters actually take a husband, this might be the closest I come,” Maege said with affection. After Deirdre made introductions, Lady Mormont took Benjen in her arms and gestured to the crowded room, asking, “Might we spend some time alone together, Your Grace?”

 

Deirdre took Brandon from Aline and the room emptied other than the two of them and her sons. “If you’re going to give me a speech about my wifely duties, I assure you I have done this before.” Deirdre forced a slight chuckle.

 

“No, I wanted to know how you _truly_ were. I know this cannot be easy for you,” the older woman said.

 

Deirdre was surprised by the sudden tightness in her chest when she attempted to answer her. _Oh gods, I will no longer be Robb’s wife. I cannot do this. I cannot speak vows with another man. What of my vows to Robb? He is truly **gone**.  _ She took a deep breath and shook her head, unable to speak.

 

Lady Mormont reached out and took her hand. “You don’t have to marry him, Deirdre. If you do not wish for this, we can take you and your sons away from here. Jon will understand. Dacey said he is worried you will regret agreeing with Stannis and grow to hate him for forcing you to.”

 

“Jon was right. There is no way the king would allow us to leave here safely…”

 

“You are holding the _only_ king that we will swear fealty to if that is your wish, Your Grace,” Lady Mormont exclaimed, her eyes fiery. “ _The King in the North_. Do you think we brought this many men just for a wedding? We want to make certain to provide you the opportunity to escape safely. Your guards, Jon, the Crowfoot, and I are willing to do whatever you wish for Brandon. Until you say otherwise, you are the Queen in the North and you speak for our king. We await your command.”

 

Deirdre was stunned by her words and looked down at Brandon’s face. For a moment she doubted all that she had grown to accept in the past few weeks. Then she remembered those life-altering moments when the northern bannermen declared Robb the King in the North. Could she rule until Brandon was able? Did she want to? Becoming king had taken everything from Robb, including his life. _The north is crushing me; this crown is…_ he had said.She would not have her sons’ fate be the same as their father.

 

“No.” Deirdre shook her head firmly. “I don’t want that. And I don’t think that’s what Robb would want if he were here. I want our sons to have the childhood that they could never have as a king and a prince. And besides, we’re surrounded by enemies. I don’t need to make more by betraying my word to King Stannis.” Maege smiled faintly and Deirdre felt she approved of her decision despite her willingness to help Deirdre escape if she wished it.

 

“Lord Stark is a good man, like his father and brother. He’ll help the north recover. According to Dacey, he is much like his father although I see some of Brandon in him. Robb had Brandon’s charisma, his father’s honor, and his mother’s political sense. It seems Jon inherited the more spirited temper of Brandon and Lyanna than Benjen and Lord Eddard,” Lady Mormont commented, studying Benjen for a moment. “This one will be another quiet wolf, I think. There is an old saying: **_Wolves_** _and women wed for life. A man might befriend a wolf, even break a wolf, but no man could truly tame a wolf_.”

 

Deirdre nodded. _I never tamed Robb, nor will I ever tame Jon. Yet it is more a thrill than a fear knowing that. No one knows there is danger in every wolf more than I do but I **need** that fiery passion in my life. I am drawn to it._ “I forget you knew all of the Starks. Jon suspects my Brandon is more like his uncle, Brandon, than his brother, Bran. I see so much of Robb in him. But then Benjen turns his eyes towards me and it’s like looking into the past…” she trailed off.

 

Lady Mormont said nothing for a few moments before she straightened up and leaned forward, focusing intently on Deirdre. “You could punish yourself forever for the fact you survived Robb’s death. And you could punish Jon forever for not _being_ Robb. And you could make both of your lives miserable because you and Robb didn’t get the happiness you both deserved. But _none of that_ will bring Robb back to you. Today is the day you need to decide if you want to have a life with Jon and your sons or if you just want to live in the past, longing for a ghost.”

 

Although Lady Mormont spoke from her heart because she cared for Deirdre, it still pained her to hear the truth so bluntly. She knew even though he would never leave her heart completely, she had to let Robb go now.

 

“It’s time. Are you ready?” Lady Mormont asked.

 

“Can you send Aline back in here? I don’t want to expose the boys to the cold too long so they will remain here during the wedding. And I want a few moments with my sons.”

 

Maege laid Benjen on the bed in front of Deirdre and left the room, leaving the three of them alone. Tears burned her eyes as she placed Brandon beside his brother and looked down at them. She took one of their perfect little hands in her own and spoke quietly. “You are the two most beautiful beings in this world to me. I know I can never put into words how much I love you but one day you have children of your own and you will understand. I hope you know that I love your father _so much_ as well. But Jon will be my husband now and I owe it to him to try and make him happy. This doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop loving your father. That day will never come. But maybe I have room in my heart to love Jon as well. And someday you may have a younger brother or sister that I will love as much as I love you.”

 

Tears rolled down her face as she remembered her wedding night with Robb and him telling her he loved her. _From the moment I first saw you and until the day I die._ And he had kept his word. Even though she had lost him, he had given her so much love in their short time together that the feeling of being loved by him would never go away.

 

Leaning down, she kissed each of her sons.  Robb would want her to go on living, even if it meant with another man. And he’d be happier that it was with Jon than anyone else.  

 

~*~

Since the weirwood tree was quite a distance from Castle Black, they rode horses to the Godswood. Jon rode in front with Benjen and his friends Edd, Grenn, Satin, Sam, and Pyp beside him, keeping him laughing and preventing him from being nervous. The men and women from House Umber rode behind them, followed by Stannis, Melisandre, and some of his guards. Deirdre rode with Val, Gin, Lady Mormont, Dacey, Ned, Robert, Patrek, and Adair. She had insisted Aline and the boys were guarded by her remaining guards. She was uneasy about being so far away from them as it was. Lady Mormont’s party followed behind them.

 

They said their vows before the same weirwood tree that Jon had spoken his Night Watch’s vows. Stannis stood stiffly to the side with his red priestess. Jon knew Melisandre didn’t approve of the marriage ceremony in a service to the old gods but Stannis had allowed it as long as Melissandre was able to ask R’hllor to bless them as well.

 

Ned presented her to Jon solemnly and Jon could see how protective the man was of his future wife, not just her safety but her happiness and well-being as well. Jon thought Deirdre had never looked more beautiful. She was wearing a gray and white fur trimmed gown that dipped low in the front and was tight in the waist displaying beautifully the fact she was regaining her shape, other than her fuller breasts. The dress was far simpler than her last one when she married Robb but Jon thought she actually looked even more appealing in simple gowns that were less distracting. Her pale skin was accented by the cold reddening her cheeks. He couldn’t stop looking at her, unable to believe this was happening.

 

Each person held a candle and once they had each been lit, it made the Godwood look magical as the flickering flames reflected on the icy ground. Benjen stood beside the heart tree and said, “We stand here in the sight of the gods to witness the union of man and woman. One flesh, one heart, one soul. Now and forever. Who comes? Who comes before the gods?”

 

Ned answered clearly, “Deirdre of House Stark, formerly of House Lannister, comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble, she comes to beg the blessings of the gods. Who comes to claim her?”

 

“I do,” said Jon. “Jon of House Stark, Lord of the Winterfell and Warden of the North. I claim her. Who gives her?”

 

“Ned of House Wull, her loyal friend and guardian upon her husband’s death,” He turned to the bride. “Lady Deirdre, will you take this man?”

 

Jon turned to watch her closely. Her eyes met his and she said, “I take this man.” Jon felt overwhelmed at the conviction in her voice. Ned stepped back and she took Jon’s hand. Without thinking about the others present, Jon leaned over and kissed her quickly. A few people chuckled softly as Deirdre blushed.

 

“You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection,” Benjen said with amusement in his voice.

 

Jon undid the cloak Deirdre wore and handed it to Ned. The bridal cloak Jon gave her was one that Benjen had given him for the occasion since Jon’s father was not there. It was dark grey with the white direwolf sigil on the back and wolf fur at the collar. Jon placed it on her shoulders.

 

Benjen stepped forward and bound their hands together. “Please face one another and state your solemn vows.”

 

Jon just looked at her for a moment before saying, “Before the gods I swear, I am hers and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days.”

 

Deirdre smiled nervously and said her vows. “By the Seven, I swear, I am his, and he is mine, from this day until the end of my days.”

 

The two of them knelt before the heart tree and bowed their heads in prayer. Jon prayed for guidance and that he would make Deirdre happy. After they prayed for a few moments, Jon rose, helping her to her feet.

 

“Vows spoken before the weirwood tree are solemn oaths to the old gods. May they bless this union and let no man deny it,” Benjen said and gave Jon a reassuring look.

 

Melisandre came forward to stand in front of them and lowering her hood, she took a torch and lit a small pile of sticks that was before Jon and Deirdre. “The night is dark and full of terrors. Alone we are born and alone we die, but as we walk through this black vale we draw strength from one another and from you, my lord. Two come forth today. Let them feel your fire in their hearts, my lord, so they will see the power of the **_one true God_**. For only your light can keep the darkness at bay.”  She looked up at the two of them and said, “You must show the Lord of Light your willingness to accept his blessings by leaping across the fire. You must accept the Lord of Light into your heart, so R’hllor can protect you. ”

 

Jon hesitated, feeling everyone’s eyes on him. Benjen looked furious as did Lady Mormont and her daughters. Jon glanced at Stannis, feeling angry and conflicted. He knew now what Melisandre hoped to accomplish by speaking. _Did Stannis know that she planned to ambush him at their wedding?_ If he leapt over that fire, he’d lose the Northmen’s trust and respect. If he didn’t, he’d offend Stannis. He shook his head, feeling trapped.

 

Before he could speak though, Deirdre answered boldly, “My lady, the Starks have the blood of the First Men and, therefore, follow the Old Gods. I was raised in the Faith of the Seven. I do not know if the Old Gods are more tolerant and would approve of us accepting a different lord whose beliefs we did not share, but I know that in the Faith of the Seven I would be damning myself. That is why I have never forsworn my gods nor has Jon asked me to. If you truly wish us happiness and well-being, do not ask that we turn our backs on our Gods.” She glanced towards Stannis and continued, “If His Grace wished for us to jump over that fire, certainly he would have made it a condition when he arranged our marriage.”

 

Melisandre turned toward Stannis and waited. After a short time of grinding his teeth and glancing over the crowd of Northmen, he nodded at Jon. Melisandre looked at Deirdre and Jon wondered if she’d protest but she simply pulled her hood back up and returned to Stannis’ side.  Jon had never felt prouder of Deirdre than that moment and he squeezed her hand tightly.

 

Benjen returned to his spot before them with a smile. “The Free Folk tell of a wedding tradition that the First Men practiced to protect each other from evil. Reaching out, he untied their hands. “Deirdre, if you wish to take this man as your husband, you must circle him three times to protect him from evil and the temptations of the world.”

  
Deirdre looked at Jon with a little hesitation and then did as she was told, walking around him three times before returning to his side.

  
“Jon, if you wish to take this woman as your wife, you must circle her three times as well to protect her from evil and the temptations of the world.”  When he began walking around her, he saw Deirdre bite back a smile or a laugh then look down at her hands, likely to avoid looking at Benjen. 

 

Jon returned to her side and Benjen nodded solemnly. “Now the two of you must walk together to represent the protection that you will encircle your family with.” Deirdre looked at Jon with a sweet smile, one of her genuine smiles that he loved so much that were not just for courtesy and he saw hope in her eyes for the first time in awhile. He took her hand, entwining his fingers with hers and led her as they walked in a circle.

 

Benjen smiled at them, untying their hands. “Congratulations, Lord and Lady Stark.”

 

Jon pulled Deirdre into his arms and caressed her face gently before kissing her. As the two shared their first kiss as husband and wife, Jon held her longer than what was likely acceptable, kissing her not once but a few times, but Deirdre did not protest. Jon felt so overwhelmed that she was now his wife, he could not stop touching her to remind himself that it was real. Their friends came forward and congratulated them with embraces.

 

~*~

 

Some of the men of the Night’s Watch, mostly led by Sam and Maester Aemon, attempted to make their wedding feast festive using the supplies the Umbers and Mormonts brought for the feast. As usual, the men of House Umber created an increase of boisterous revelry. Jon felt like they came to the wedding as a strong statement to Lord Bolton that they were still loyal to the Starks, not him. But the Umbers had to be careful as the Freys still held the Greatjon as a hostage. Hother Umber, brother of Mors, swore loyalty to Lord Bolton in order to protect his nephew so he was not present at the wedding.

 

Deirdre’s other guards and her sons joined them for the feast, the children heavily guarded still, and now the secret that not one, but _two_ of Robb Stark’s male heirs lived also became public knowledge. Jon didn’t like to think about it too much though, especially when he saw Janos Slynt taking a closer look at the boys. All secrecy to Deirdre and her sons’ location had been lost weeks ago. The Northmen were very thrilled by the boys and made certain that Deirdre knew it. Lady Mormont took Brandon away from Jon shortly after she finished eating, having been bewitched by him the moment she first saw him. Benjen Stark held his namesake, proudly showing him off. The Wildling boy Garth also joined the feast and seemed awed by all the food and people. The noise of the feast grew to be too much for the babes and Aline and some of Deirdre’s guards returned to her chambers.

 

There were a few singers and musicians that played for them to dance. Deirdre barely had a chance to breathe in between partners before Jon finally caught her in his arms. It was the first time they had to speak alone the whole day.

 

“You look beautiful,” he whispered with a smile. “Every man here is envious of me.”

 

“That’s because most of them have sworn vows to never touch a woman again,” Deirdre teased.

 

He had to laugh at that. “Perhaps but even the ones that haven’t sworn vows, Stannis’ knights, House Umber and House Mormont’s men all watch you.” Pulling her closer, he said, “I never thought this day would come where we would not have to hide our relationship.”

 

She didn’t answer and Jon grew uneasy. “Do you regret…”

 

“No,” she interrupted, shaking her head. “Lady Mormont told that everyone was willing to help us leave if I wanted that. I _chose_ to marry you Jon.”

 

“I wanted you to have the option that I denied you by agreeing to Stannis’ terms,” he admitted. “I will not lie. I was _hoping_ you would still be willing to marry me. So what troubles you now?”

 

A flash of panic crossed her face and she said, “I cannot do the bedding ceremony. Not after what happened at the Twins…”

 

Jon shushed her, shaking his head and tightening his embrace. “No, everyone knows that is not going to happen. None of the Northmen would be so disrespectful and both the king and Uncle Benjen have assured me their men would not be allowed to suggest it.” Jon had already forbid the bedding ceremony to occur. He couldn’t imagine the amount of humiliation and terror it would have caused her with all of the men there, including former rapists who had become sworn brothers. Plus, after what happened at the Red Wedding during the bedding, it would have traumatized her completely. As far as Jon was concerned, the tradition of bedding ceremonies in the North should be completely abolished in honor of his brother and his men that died that day.

 

She tightened her arms around his neck and whispered, “Thank you for thinking of that.” Dipping his head, he kissed her softly and Deirdre drew closer to him, a soft moan escaping her lips in between kisses. For a moment Jon could forget everyone was there but a few catcalls from his friends and the two of them pulled apart, Deirdre’s face coloring as she whispered, “And if I haven’t said so already, you look very handsome, Lord Stark.” Gilly had altered a dark blue velvet tunic with gray leather trim that had been Robb’s. His uncle had given him an onyx and silver direwolf broach to wear that had been a gift from Jon’s grandfather to Benjen. Jon remembered his father had a matching one.

 

Jon held onto her for a few more dances before allowing Benjen and Ned each to dance with her. He was surprised when Stannis danced with her once. He suspected that Melisandre had encouraged it. Stannis seemed stiff and uncomfortable the whole time and Deirdre looked miserable.

 

“Lord Stark, do you wish to dance?” Melisandre said from behind him. The woman made him uneasy but he reluctantly agreed, took her hand, and led her to the dance floor. After a few moments, she said, “Your bride seems more accepting of this marriage now.”

 

“She wasn’t really given a choice, if you will recall. She’s made the most of a tense situation.” Jon didn’t want to discuss their marriage with her.

 

“You don’t like me, do you, Lord Stark?” she asked, studying him intently. When he didn’t answer her, she chuckled. “You need not like me or even trust me. I only want the best for the king and it is in his best interest that you and Lady Stark are together. Your children will rise to greatness, more so than even your brother.”

 

“Do not speak of my brother,” Jon retorted and stepped away from her, letting his hands fall to his sides. “And do not attempt to force my hand again, my lady.”

 

She shrugged with a smile and he thought she would walk away. But instead she stepped closer to him and said, “His Grace expects your marriage to be consummated tonight. I promise you that I will know if it’s not.”  She turned and observed Deirdre for a moment before adding, “The king wanted a witness but I assured him _you’d_ do your duty…” Her gaze returned to his as she raised her hands to place on his cheeks. “You desire your wife already, like you did secretly many moons ago. You cannot allow the ghost of your brother to prevent her from doing _her_ duty.”

 

Jon walked away from her, revulsion washing over him. He knew Stannis worried about Deirdre and her sons but to have Melisandre threaten him if he did not consummate his marriage? Jon had asked the king to be understanding to the fact that Deirdre was newly widowed and give her time but Stannis had told him to do it by whatever means possible. Stannis feared Deirdre would try to set aside their marriage, if unconsummated, to reclaim kingship for her son as soon as she left the Wall. It was too much. It was degrading to them both to have that threat hanging over them. He wanted to make love to Deirdre and hoped she wanted that as well but he had a hard time imagining her doing it as a duty.

 

“What’s wrong?” Deirdre asked as she walked up beside him, concern on her face.

 

Taking her hands, he said, “I grow weary of so many people. I want to be alone with you.” When she nodded her consent, he led her out of the feast subtly, not drawing any attention to their departure to make it easier on her.

 

They were given chambers in the King’s Tower that were nicer than the ones in Castle Black. Deirdre sat on the bed, still in her gown, looking like her mind was anywhere but there. Jon sat beside her, taking her hand into his own. “Are you all right?” Her skin was still cold from outside.

 

“I’m just so tired, due to the lack of sleep and everything else,” she said, raising her eyes to his. “I hate Stannis for forcing so many things on you, but I’m glad he allowed you to retain your gods. Although I’m sure Melisandre wasn’t pleased.”

 

“I have a feeling you’re going to hate Stannis even more in a few minutes.”

 

“Why?”

 

Jon swallowed hard and lowered his eyes. He had to be honest with her. “Stannis said we must consummate our marriage tonight and Melisandre assured me she’d know if we did not. The king said he didn’t want you to attempt to set aside our marriage to reclaim the kingship for Brandon and I must do my duty, whatever way necessary,”

 

“Even by force?” she asked in a small voice, staring straight ahead.

 

“Deirdre, you know I would _never_ force you. But if we don’t, I fear he’ll set aside our marriage himself and attempt to force me to marry Val to forge a stronger alliance with the Wildlings or hold us both here under his protection. I don’t know what would then become of you and the twins.”

 

She was silent so he glanced to her face. “I know you still love Robb and I wish it didn’t have to be this way, but you know I’ll be gentle.”

 

Jon rose and pulled her to stand. As he began to unlace her dress, he could see the tears running down her face.  He focused on the laces and pulled the dress off her shoulders, but he felt horrible. In all his dreams of her, she never cried at the thought of making love to him. But this wasn’t making love. This was doing her duty. It made Jon feel cold and empty inside. When her dress was off, he started on the laces of her corset, but he saw her trembling and stopped.

 

“I can’t do this, not like this,” he said. Reaching over, he pulled a blanket off the bed and wrapped it around her. Without looking at her, he walked to the fire and stared into it. He couldn’t live with himself if he forced her and this felt too much like force. He can’t imagine how honorable men handled bedding a terrified, innocent wife after a humiliating bedding ceremony. He’d be more fortunate than he realized – both women he’d made love to had wanted him. They weren’t just forced into a bed naked beside him by their wedding guests.

 

The room was quiet for a long time before he felt her hand on his shoulder. He turned around and she stood before him naked except for the blanket wrapped around her. Her tears were gone even if her eyes still were full of sorrow. “I know we have to do this. I just hoped it would be easier. It still feels like I’m betraying Robb. And now Stannis has made any affection and desire we have begun to feel for each other seem so…wrong. But we can’t allow Stannis to affect our feelings for each other. I’m glad it’s you, Jon. I can’t imagine going through this with anyone else.” She leaned forward and put her arm around him. Jon ran his hand over the soft skin of her back and she kissed him gently, and then walked backwards, she led him back to the bedside.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _ A/N Part 2: the wedding contains some quotes from two weddings in A Dance with Dragons as well as weddings on the show and I make no claim to them: _
> 
> _We stand here in the sight of the gods to witness the union of man and woman. Who comes? Who comes before the gods? (ADWD)_
> 
> _One flesh, one heart, one soul. Now and forever. (show)_
> 
> _xx comes here to be wed. A woman grown and flowered, trueborn and noble, she comes to beg the blessings of the gods. Who comes to claim her? (ADWD)_
> 
> _I do. xxx of House X, I claim her. Who gives her? (ADWD)_
> 
> _I take this man. (ADWD)_
> 
> _You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection (both)_
> 
> _I am hers and she is mine, from this day until the end of my days. (show)_
> 
> _The night is dark and full of terrors. Alone we are born and alone we die, but as we walk through this black vale we draw strength from one another and from you, my lord. Two come forth today. (ADWD)  
> _


	20. Chapter 20

 

_A/N Thank you to CalliopeGalaxy for the beta! Please review because writers need feedback and I never get reviews on here! :-( The end of this was greatly inspired but Kit's new Wonderland pictures. Roar!  
_

 

 

**Chapter 20**

 

Turning around to face Jon, Deirdre hesitated for only a few seconds before tucking her blanket under her arms as she reached out to unlace his doublet. Jon watched her focusing so intently on the fastenings as if she feared facing him. She finished, pushing the doublet back over his shoulders. When she reached out for his tunic, she realized she couldn’t remove it without lifting her arms and dropping the blanket. She drew in a deep breath and let the blanket fall to the floor. Quickly she reached for the tunic and pulled it over Jon’s head.

 

She began to unlace his breeches and Jon reached out to pull the hair that tumbled over her shoulder and down to her breasts away from her skin, leaving her bare before him with only the firelight flickering on her skin. She blushed, suddenly stopping what she was doing, and bringing her hands up to cover her stomach.

 

“I’m the size of an auroch now,” she replied, attempting to laugh, but he could see it bothered her. “My body is different…”

 

 “You’re breathtaking,” he said pulling her hands into his own. “None of your changes take away from your beauty. You brought two lives into this world, I can think of nothing more beautiful about a woman.”  She still looked unsure. He stepped closer to her and let his fingers trace the faint stretch marks on her belly. “We’re both different than before. Like my scars, these are reminders of what you’ve experienced but yours, unlike mine, are also reminders of the love you brought into this world. And….” His eyes rose to hers.  “If anything, I want you more now than I wanted you before.”

 

He lifted his hand and let his fingers drift over her skin lightly, running down her throat and shoulders. As his hands drifted lower, she tucked her bottom lip behind her teeth, glancing down at his hands. Slowly, she reached out and finished unlacing his breeches.

 

“The first time we made love you told me, _just for tonight, forget everything else, everything but us_. Do you remember that?” he asked reaching up and crooking a finger under her chin. When she faced him, he whispered, “Forget everything else, everything but us.” He brought his hands up to caress her face as he pulled her close. Deirdre wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed him along his jaw line.

 

Jon inhaled her familiar scent. The smell of her alone was enough to feel warmth in his belly and make him smile. She was _his,_ finally. She had willingly said her vows despite being given an option to flee. Suddenly overwhelmed with his emotions, he tightened his arms around her and just held her. _I am hers and she is mine._

 

“Come to bed, husband,” she said, stepping away from him and crawling onto the bed, under the thick blanket.

 

Jon slipped in beside her and turned on his side to look at her.  Gods, she was so beautiful it hurt him to see any doubt or sorrow on her face. He ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek then kissed her slowly. She seemed hesitant at first but gradually she parted her lips and began moving her tongue against his. His hand lowered to cup one of her breasts, his thumb brushing across the nipple. He was gentle because he knew she was nursing.

 

“Do you remember the hot springs?” he asked, “Gods, I wanted you so badly that day. And that night you came to me. You were so perfect, so beautiful and your touch drove me wild.” He kissed her again hungrily and he felt growing desire from her.  “You said you had never wanted another man to make love to you before that night and it was the most wonderful thing I’d ever heard. I’ve dreamed of that night so many times and I’d wake up aching for you.”

 

“Do you remember how you felt that night?” She nodded, her gaze meeting his. “We’ve both changed, but you still make me feel like the innocent boy trying to please you. I remember how you guided me through it that first time. You were shy and subdued in most ways but in my bed, you were a true lioness. Now, you seem more innocent than before. Yet until a few weeks ago, you were the bold, brave Queen in the North threatening to behead lords if they didn’t release me. Is this fear or dread I am seeing in your eyes?” he asked with concern

 

She shook her head at first, attempting to deny it perhaps but then finally admitted, “I don’t know who I am anymore. When I first met you, you opened my eyes to another way I could be, another way to feel. But I grew into who I am now while I was…while we were apart.”

 

“You have changed but...”

 

 “I’m not the Queen in the North. I’m not Robb Stark’s wife. I’m not really a Lannister. I don’t know _you_ anymore either. You’re not the boy I loved in Winterfell anymore. You just said as much,” Deirdre replied, sitting up. “Every time I come to accept who I am, someone forces me to change. Even who I love is no longer my choice. I once loved Jon Snow. Then I loved Robb Stark. I don’t even _know_ Jon Stark yet.” She let out a sigh and he saw her lip tremble. “It’s just like when they named Robb king. A bunch of lords started shouting out ‘King in the North’ and suddenly that’s who he _had_ to become.”

 

Jon was quiet, watching her and trying to understand her feelings. He sat up, putting his arm around her. “I know it’s a lot of changes for you in a short time.”

 

“He’s only been gone for a little while,” she whispered then took a deep shaky breath.  “And while we have feelings between us, whatever they are, now Stannis…and the Northmen expect things from us and it makes everything always so complicated…”

 

Jon turned her to face him and said gently, “Take a deep breath and we’ll just move slowly. Most marriages don’t start with as much as we have. They begin with a very awkward bedding ceremony between strangers, and then the woman comes to live in a new place with a man she barely knows. But you and I have done _this_ part before. It doesn’t have to be awkward with us. It will be easier than if I were a complete stranger, right?”

 

“Yes,” she nodded, biting her lip, her eyes watching him hesitantly.

 

Jon thought maybe some wine would help her relax so he got up and poured them both a cup and returned to bed. She took it from him and sipped it, then coughed for a few moments.

 

“This is horrible.” She laughed after recovering. “Are you trying to poison me?”

 

“I thought it would help to relax you, not choke you.” He chuckled in response, taking the cup from her and setting it on the table.

 

She smiled nervously and said, “A kiss would work better.”

 

Jon leaned forward and brushed his lips across hers lightly a few times before sucking her lower lip in between his. He continued to kiss her as he eased her to lie back on the bed. Her lips moved against his, encouraging him to deepen the kiss.

 

Her hand moved to his back when he kissed down her throat. He took his time, moving his mouth across her soft skin, sucking lightly, her wonderful scent filling his senses completely. Her nails dug into his hip as she moaned breathily, moving her body against his. His hands trailed down her body, just reacquainting himself. He couldn’t believe that she was his wife now. He’d never even dared dream of this day and the journey they’d taken to get there made it so much more unbelievable.

 

He slid his knee between hers, spreading her legs slightly and lowered his hand between her thighs. Jon whispered her name and she opened her green eyes to gaze back at him.

 

“Is this all right? Do you feel better?” he asked and she nodded. He pressed his lips to hers, his tongue seeking the heat of her mouth and he moved his hardness against her hip.

 

“Jon,” she muttered, her voice a warm caress.

 

“Please…touch me,” he whispered against her lips.

 

Deirdre lowered her hand and wrapped it around his manhood, her grasp gentle but warm as she stroked him. Her tongue moved against his now too. When he kissed down her throat, he heard her whimper, making his cock ache. He bent down to trail gentle kisses across her breasts, his mouth moving lower across her stomach as his hands skimmed her hips. Bending down, he lowered his mouth to taste her.

 

“No, Jon,” she whimpered, bringing her knees up quickly, and trying to stop him.

 

“Trust me, it will feel good,” he replied thinking she thought it was perverse, but when he saw the panic in her eyes it stopped him.

 

“ _No_. You can’t. That’s something that was only Robb’s. Something you didn’t have first,” she explained, as tears filled her eyes and she scooted up the bed, away from him.

 

His desire filled mind took a few moments to comprehend what she meant. Deirdre had been Jon’s lover first, she’d loved Jon first. So there were things that were Robb’s first, of course. And she was scared to take that away without betraying him. Now was not the time to argue with her logic. He would wait until she was ready. He nodded and rising up, he moved back up her body to kiss her lips again. He hesitated doing anything else because she was still so tense.

 

“Deirdre, I want to please you, but you need to relax and allow me to.”

 

“Just not that, please.”

 

“I won’t. I understand,” he said and she relaxed a little bit. He continued to kiss her until she eventually relaxed in his arms.

 

After many heated kisses and caresses, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him down on top of her as she kissed him hungrily. He moaned at the feeling of her warm skin against his and her tongue deep in his mouth. He needed to be inside her but worried if he entered her now he’d spend immediately. He rolled onto his back, pulling her on top of him.

 

Her hair fell forward, tickling his face and he chuckled. “I’ve missed the feeling of your hair in my face.” He ran his fingers through the curls, pulling it behind her back.  “It’s strange the things you remember about someone.”

 

“Like your hair when it was damp in the hot springs. It made it curl even more,” she said with a smile as she twisted one of his curls in her fingers. “How the water glistened on your skin.”

 

Cupping her chin, he kissed her deeply before saying, “The first time you let me kiss you in the Godswood.”

 

“And the first time you said I was beautiful,” she teased. “I think you said it by mistake.”

 

“I didn’t mean to say it out loud, so bluntly,” he admitted. “It just slipped out and once it did I regretted that I didn’t say it more romantically.”

 

Deirdre shrugged a bit. “I liked the way you said it. It seemed more sincere and heartfelt.” Her fingers traced the scars on his face as she watched him. “Things seemed so complicated then. It’s shocking to realize how much simpler they were than now.”

 

“If we’d only known then, perhaps we would have spared each other some pain.” His hands trailed down her back until they rested on her hips. She moved against him and he whispered, “I want you.”

 

She didn’t answer, only kissed him again. “Tell me,” he whispered. “Tell me what you want.” He felt her desire but he needed her emotional willingness as well.

 

“Please,” she breathed, her eyes closing.

 

“Tell me what you want,” he asked again, his tongue running along her ear before sucking on her neck.

 

“I want…” she began and moaned again. “ _Please_ , Jon.”

 

Pulling away, he waited until she opened her eyes. She held his gaze before whispering, “I want you Jon.”

 

Jon moaned and kissed her, ravenously. He quickly rolled her onto her back again, his hand lowering to grasp her knee and pull it up to his hip. When he entered her in one long quick thrust, the sweet heat of her almost undid him. He rested his forehead against her shoulder and just reveled in the feeling. Gods he had forgotten how they fit perfectly together, even now. She pulled her other knee up and wrapped it around his waist. Making an impatient noise, she dug her nails into his back, urging him to make love to her.

 

He moved into her slowly, savoring every sensation. It was familiar but so very different at the same time. She had been his first, but he was almost a boy then. And now that he was a man with more experience, he wanted her approval and satisfaction more than anything. She was his _wife_ now. He wanted, no he _needed_ , to please her more than before.  He lowered his mouth to hers and she sucked on his tongue causing him to moan and thrust into her harder. She eagerly canted her hips higher to meet his and Jon gasped her name against her lips.

 

“There is nothing in this world that compares to being inside you,” he whispered. Her inner muscles tightened on him, making him feel even harder to a nearly unbearable way. Hearing the sounds of her passion was such music to his ears because they always had to keep quiet in the past. Now the sound of her pleasure was driving him wild.

 

“I love you. I’ve always loved you,” he whispered, kissing her. He knew it was too soon for her but he loved her just as much as ever. She held a part of his heart that Ygritte never had.

 

He ground his hips into her and she whimpered, her nails digging into his back, meeting his strokes. “You feel so good,” she moaned, kissing along his throat. “I forgot how much.”

 

Jon thrust into her in short hard strokes now, sweat glistening on his skin as his heart raced. She tugged her fingers through his curls as her teeth nipped at his shoulder. Both of them were breathing heavily in between kisses.  Wrapping his arm around her waist, he rose up to sit back on his knees, pulling her to straddle his lap. She pressed teasing kisses on his lips as she moved up and down on him slowly at first. Jon grew impatient and grasped her hips, pulling her down a little harder. When she threw back her head with a gasp and arched her back, he wrapped his arm around her waist and bent down to cover her breasts with open mouthed kisses. They moved together fluidly, gradually faster.

 

Deirdre wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him aggressively. Jon buried one hand in her hair and tightened his embrace with the other arm, crushing her breasts against his chest, needing to feel her heated skin against his. She broke away gasping for breath and whimpering. “Jon, please, I can take anymore.” But even as she said it, her hips jerked forward as her release hit her, forcing a cry from her lips. In one fluid motion, not withdrawing from her, he stretched out with her on her back and thrust into her rapidly, wincing when her nails ripped into his arms. She tightened around him and Jon’s release hit him hard, leaving him breathless as he buried himself in her with a groan. Afterwards, he collapsed on her in complete bliss, kissing her lazily, and allowing his heart beat to return to normal.

 

“Jon, I can’t breathe,” she said with a chuckle and he reluctantly withdrew and moved off her. Her heat no longer surrounding him was an unwelcome shock. The room was cold without their bodies warming each other and she shivered.  Jon reached down to cover them both in furs, and then pulled her into his arms.

 

He gazed at her face and smiled. “We don’t have to sneak around anymore. You can sleep as late as you want and no one will disturb us.”

 

She attempted a smile but when tears filled her eyes, she quickly looked away. Jon brought his hand to caress her cheek. “I know the wedding was hard for you. But hopefully in time, I’ll win your love again.”

 

She shook her head with a sigh. “It’s nothing you’ve done, Jon. I feel like I betrayed him. You _don’t_ understand. I was his only lover. I made vows to him. Yet it is your seed in my womb now, where his sons once were, all that is now left of him.” She turned away as tears flowed down her face. “My husband is barely dead and I’m _begging_ for your touch. I know we had to do this but I shouldn’t have _enjoyed_ it so much.”

 

Sighing, he held her tightly. “Your body reacting to me isn’t a betrayal to him. I realize that what you and I had was nothing compared to you and Robb. We were sneaking around and unable to spend time getting to know each other. At night, you were mine. But even then, in Winterfell, you were always Robb’s during the day. He was able to win your heart in a manner I never had a chance to. I’m not asking you to forget him or stop loving him. I’m just asking that you give me a chance to win your heart again. I’m not the same angry boy I was, demanding your love without earning it,” he explained, his fingers trailing through her hair.

 

“I was once afraid of the fire we inspired in each other. But I know now that you and I both had so much to discover about ourselves. Robb gave you stability, strength, and love which you needed so much then. I just wanted you and I wanted something that was only mine. But that wasn’t much different from the way your own family treated you. I expected so much from you yet I couldn’t offer you anything but my heart.”

 

“I only wanted your heart then,” she said quietly.

 

“Then, perhaps; but as I said, you had Robb during the day as well. So between the two of us, you were happy but what I gave you wasn’t enough to keep you satisfied if he hadn’t given you the rest. Now I’ve had to make choices and sacrifices for others, I realize what I was lacking. I learned to stop feeling guilty or sorry for myself because I was a bastard. I’m not Ned Stark’s bastard anymore. I’m Jon Snow,” he explained.

 

“No, now you’re Jon Stark,” she pointed out.

 

“If you strip away everything else, I’ll always be me. And it’s me I want you to love,” he said then kissed her.

 

She wiped her eyes and took a breath. “I’m sorry, Jon. I told myself I wouldn’t do this to you. I would let Robb go for everyone’s sake. But I just spent a long time convincing him that I didn’t love you anymore, which makes me feel guilty now.”

 

“I know you’re trying,” he reassured her with a kiss.

 

“I’ve never asked. Did you love Ygritte? Did she love you?” she asked suddenly, her eyes studying his face.

 

Jon was quiet, and then shook his head. “I cared for Ygritte, but it was never love. I wished I had loved her as she loved me, but she and I believed different things about what was right or wrong. Pyp and Grenn told me I cried out for her when I was feverish and wounded, but cried out for you more. They didn’t understand why I was calling out for my brother’s wife.” He chuckled. “I never told anyone about you except Sam.”

 

“Actually, you did. You didn’t mean to but Tyrion guessed you meant me when you told him about the woman you loved. He admitted it when he came back through Winterfell.” She smiled gently. “He admired you a lot.”

 

“He’s too clever for his own good.” Jon smiled then shook his head. “But tonight isn’t the time to talk about Ygritte or Tyrion though. I just want to enjoy being with my wife. This is the first time for me that it wasn’t forbidden,” he chuckled, trailing his fingers down her side.

 

“And was the forbidden fruit sweeter?” she asked with a smirk.

 

“I’m still undecided. I need to taste again to be sure.” He leaned over and kissed her. “I want to have a child with you.” He noticed her subtle flinch and his gaze flew to hers, seeing her unease. Cold filled him as his heart sank. He couldn’t keep the pain from his voice when he asked, “Do you not wish to have my child?”

 

She quickly turned to him and pressed her hand against his chest. “Of course I do. It’s just too soon. Jon, I’ve been pregnant or nursing twins for the most difficult time of my life. I love my children more than life itself but I cannot imagine having the energy for a third child so soon. I would not trade them for anything in Westeros, but I just wish they were a year or so older before we have another. I want to be able to give my next child as much time and energy as the boys and I don’t think I could if all of them were so young,” she said gently, raising her hand and curling it around his neck. “But if you don’t wish to wait, I understand. I will love our child just as much as my sons.”

 

“Perhaps it would be best if we wait,” he admitted. “I know it’s normally expected to secure an heir soon but Brandon and Benjen are my heirs anyway. I would prefer that our child have a home first. We need to rebuild Winterfell, at least part of it, so our children – all of our children – can have a safe place to live. I want Brandon, Benjen, and you safe behind stone walls where you belong. I want our children to run through the castle and grounds like I was able to do with my brothers and sisters.” She said nothing but he could see she was still uneasy. “What is it?”

 

Blushing, she chuckled. “I know I just complained about how tired the boys make me but I’ve never slept away from them before tonight…”

 

 “Do you want me to bring them here with us?” Jon offered.

 

“No, they’ll be sleeping now and don’t need to be out in the cold. Besides, it’s only fair that you have at least one night of my undivided attention. But don’t be surprised if I have a trouble falling asleep.” Pushing him to lay flat, she straddled his body. “I suppose you’ll have to keep me entertained.”

 

Jon wrapped his arms around her. “I will try my best to exhaust you.”

 

“You can try,” she replied with a teasing smile.

 

~*~

 

Deirdre woke with a start, confused at first where she was. It took a minute or two to orient herself in the strange bed. Jon had curled up behind her, his chest resting against her naked back and his arm wrapped around her. He made her feel cozy. She was so used to waking up with Robb sleeping on his side, draping one leg over hers, one arm around her and his head resting so close that his breath warmed her neck that sleeping alone for the last few months had been difficult. She and her first husband slept on opposite sides of the bed and Deirdre tended to move as far away from him as possible during the night. With Jon and Robb, she always woke up surrounded, snuggled into each other for warmth.

 

Jon sighed in his sleep, his arm tightening around her. She pulled his hand from her stomach and ran her fingers over the burn-scared skin idly. Rolling on her back a bit, she gazed at his face for a long time, watching him sleep. He always seemed beautiful to her but when he slept he looked even more so; soft and peaceful. His long dark lashes fluttered as he dreamed and she reached up to run her finger tip across his lip slowly. Still asleep, he licked his lip as if her touch tickled, causing her to smile. He was normally a light sleeper but they had only fallen asleep a few hours ago. She had grown accustomed to waking up early and it was barely past dawn now.

 

After a short time, she had to get up to use the privy. She returned to find Jon stretched out to her side of the bed and watching her with sleepy eyes. Before she got a chance to speak, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back into the bed, drawing her to him and wrapping both arms around her.

 

“I expected to wake up with you beside me,” he murmured.

 

“I was only gone a few minutes and you were asleep,” she retorted. “I’m not used to sleeping so long.”

 

He kissed her lazily and brought her body flush with his. His kiss grew hungrier as he hardened against her stomach.

 

She broke away with a laugh. “Again? It’s only been a few hours. And after that last time, I’m not sure I’ll be able to walk if we do it again.”

 

“Then we will have to remain in bed until you recover,” he murmured huskily.

 

Despite her teasing, she snuggled closer to him letting her fingers play along his chest. They had made love three times last night in between long talks. In many ways, they simply fell into their comfortable rhythm of the past. 

 

Jon was so like Robb in some ways but so different in others. As lovers, they were more different than alike.  Robb was playful and encouraged her wild side to come out, aroused when she was more aggressive and allowed her to be dominate. Jon was intense and reacted in kind to her. If she was aggressive or playful, so was he, always making her feel as if they were on the same level all the time. More introspective by nature, he let her see his heart by his actions more than his words. Robb had always known all the right things to say to make her feel happy and loved. But since the first moment they met, Jon and she seemed to communicate with merely a look or a touch. She and Robb could finish each other’s sentences but Jon seemed to read her mind and emotions.  She knew she was lucky to have had two equally good men love her. She forcefully pushed the comparisons out of her mind. She would not do Jon the injustice of denying him a fresh start and forcing him to live in Robb’s shadow again.

 

“You still feel guilty, don’t you?” he asked with concern.

 

“I’m certain I will feel a little guilt for a long time but not like before. I was just thinking about how things have changed so much.” Resting her head on his shoulder, she sighed. “And as much as I’ll be glad to leave the Wall, I worry about the upcoming months, more war and danger for all of us. I just wish we could have some peace…”

 

“Stop,” he said placing his finger over her lips. “We’re still forgetting everything except us, for a few more hours.” He kissed away any protests and she was grateful to have the luxury of an escape for awhile.

 

They made love again, slowly, lovingly. Soon after Deirdre was anxious to see her sons but as she promised, she gave her undivided attention to Jon. They talked about his time beyond the Wall until Deirdre dosed off again.

 

~*~

 

Deirdre woke up alone with the sunlight streaming through the curtains. The sun didn’t shine as brightly at the Wall so it was difficult to tell what time it was. She lay in bed for awhile staring at the ceiling. Sitting up finally, she debated whether she should get dressed or just wait for Jon to return.

 

As if he knew her thoughts, Jon opened the door and was followed in by a few servants to the king. Some carried buckets of steaming hot water and others carried trays of food. After they had filled the metal tub in the small room next to the privy, the servants left quickly with bows and curtsies to Jon.

 

“It’s still strange having anyone bow to me,” he said with a face.

 

“Imagine being ‘Your Grace’,” Deirdre answered running her hands through her hair. “The worst part is when people you considered your equals or even above you suddenly _aren’t_ , and they have to use your titles in mixed company. I never was comfortable when Lady Stark called me ‘Your Grace’.  But I suppose it’s important for some people to have a title. I just never cared either way.”

 

“It does beat ‘bastard’ or ‘crow’, I suppose,” Jon shrugged. He picked up the tray of foot and brought it to the bed. “Does my _wife_ wish to eat in bed? That is one title I am rather fond of, I must admit.”

 

“Won’t our bath get cold?”

 

“The tub is close to the fireplace and the water was boiling so I think it will stay warm. I’m sure we can’t find a way to keep each other warm if not,” Jon answered with a wink, grabbing a sausage link from the plate. “Aren’t you hungry?”

 

“Starving,” she replied, allowing him to feed her a piece of bacon. “I’m just not used to be able to eat first before nursing the boys. It’s quite a luxury: waking up late, eating, and bathing without interruption.”

 

“You could do this every day if you wished, now that you have Aline,” Jon answered and studied her. 

 

“No. You know that’s not what I want. I only intend for Aline to take care of the boys when I cannot. They’re my sons, it’s my duty. Besides I enjoy spending that time with them. They won’t be small forever and when they’ve grown, I’ll regret it if I didn’t spend all the time with them that I could.”

 

Jon smiled and said, “You’re a good mother. Robb would be very proud of you, as am I.”

 

“Considering the mother figures in both of our lives, I’m not certain you or I are the best judge of motherhood,” she admitted then worried it might upset him. “I just meant…”

 

Reaching out, he took her hand, bringing her fingers to his lips to kiss. “I may not have a good mother but I saw how Lady Stark treated my younger brothers and sisters. And despite your mother’s influence you’ve always been very nurturing to children.”

 

After they finished eating, Deirdre wrapped a sheet around her and rushed to the tub. Thankfully the water was still hot when she climbed in and the fire warmed the area enough that she didn’t shiver from cold air hitting her wet skin. Jon watched her for a moment before he began removing his clothes. She started to point out that the tub was unlikely to hold both of them without overflowing the water but the hunger in his eyes stopped her. She didn’t give a damn about the water spilling from the tub as he stepped in, sitting facing her. She lifted her legs to rest on top of his, making room for them both. Jon sank under the water to wet his hair, spilling even more water onto the floor.

 

Deirdre remained silent as he took a bar of soap and pulling her leg up, began lathering her skin, his fingers moving seductively from her foot then higher. He repeated the action with the other leg. Lowering herself in the water, she wet her own hair. She surfaced and washed and rinsed her hair quickly. Jon was watched her with eyes so intense, it made heat flood her body as she finished washing the rest of her body. She moved so she was straddling his lap then washed his hair. Jon kissed her wet skin, his hands moving around to clutch her behind and pulling her closer.

 

“Will I ever get enough of you?” he asked, looking up at her. She could feel him hard and ready, pressing against her.

 

“I hope not,” she replied, then kissed him teasingly. “I don’t want you to grow tired of me.” She pushed down on his shoulders and Jon slipped under the water to rinse his hair. He rose up, water streaming from his face and his beauty almost took her breath away. She kissed him again, this time with hunger, little nips of her teeth against his lip then allowing her tongue to slide along his. She wondered herself if she would ever get enough of him. Every time they made love, it seemed to increase her desire for him. Deirdre pushed away any guilt in her mind as she buried one hand in his dark curls, the other lowering to stroke him.

 

“I want you,” she declared, her lips lowering to his neck.

 

“Take me. I am yours,” he replied, his hands moving over her hips to her waist.  He kissed her breasts and Deirdre lowered herself onto his cock. There was nothing loving about this time. She did as he said and took him, aggressively, her teeth sinking into his neck and shoulder as she rode him. Jon sucked bruises onto her breasts and a few times, in between moans, she’d feel his teeth sinking into her shoulders as well. Water splashed out of the tub but neither of them cared. It did not take long for her to reach her release and she cried out his name. Jon continued to thrust up into her, pulling her down on him hard until she was breathless. He threw his head back with a groan as his climax hit him. Afterwards, she lay on his chest with his arms around her.

 

Despite the delicious ache between her legs, Deirdre realized too late that he had spilled his seed into her once again. After she explained earlier that night that she wanted to wait for another child, Jon had finished on her stomach. She said nothing though, not willing to spoil the mood. He had not gotten her with child in the dozens of times they lay together at Winterfell and it had taken many moons for Robb to get her with child. It seemed unlikely that it would happen so easily.

 

“I suppose we should get dressed,” she said softly. The water was beginning to cool.

 

“I suppose,” he said, a heavy sigh following. “Do you think if we brought the children up here, we could hide from the rest of the world forever?”

 

Sitting up, she shook her head. “We must leave this place. We must rebuild Winterfell to raise Brandon and Benjen safely. Then find Arya and Sansa.” Running her hands over his chest, she added, “This is only the beginning, a new beginning for us both.”

 

“I will make you happy,” he promised, pulling her to him for another kiss. “No matter what happens in the north, I vow I will make you happy and you will not regret marrying me.”

 

Deirdre kissed him back and said, “I know you will. I trust you.”

 

 

 

 

               

 


	21. Chapter 21

 

 

**Chapter 21**

 

“I do not understand why you swore allegiance to Stannis Baratheon and not Brandon Stark, the true King in the North,” Crowfood said loudly, with a fierce glare at Jon. “And now you intend to take Wildlings further south. I think you were beyond the Wall too long, my lord. I will not fight beside a Wilding.”

 

The day after the wedding, Benjen allowed Jon to gather the Northmen in the Shield Hall so they could meet in private. So far, some of the decisions Jon had already made, including accepting Stannis’ forced offer of some bands of Wildlings, outraged Mors Umber. At least Jon was allowed to choose the ones he would take and he did so based on his own knowledge of the different tribes.

 

Jon shook his head and began, “I understand your hesitation…”

 

“No, my lord. You misunderstand. I do not hesitate. I _refuse_. I will not fight beside a daughter-stealing Wilding! Lord Eddard Stark would never have…”

 

“I know better than you what my father would do,” Jon said coldly. While others might be oblivious to it, Deirdre could see he quickly verged on losing his temper. “He taught us that for a man to refuse an order from his lord is an open rebellion and punishable by death.”

 

Deirdre wondered if she should try to sooth the situation or remain silent. Before she could decide either way, Lady Mormont stood and, scowling at Mors, said, “Shut-up, you old fool. Whether you like it or not, you’re not _Lord_ Umber and the Greatjon would have told you that you are honor bound to follow Lord Stark, no matter which Stark it was. So if he tells you to fight beside a line of unicorns and shadowcats, you will do so. Stop all the barking and just listen to what he has to say.”

 

“He’s merely a pup…” Mors argued. “He doesn’t know how the Wildlings will play us false. They’ll agree to follow our rules and then stab us in the back with the steel we give them. Robb Stark wouldn’t have been foolish enough to…”

 

Deirdre jumped when Jon shot to his feet, slamming his hands both down on the table before him. She placed a hand on his arm but did not dare to do more than that to interfere. Ghost prowled a little closer to Jon, sensing his anger, and Deirdre was reminded of the confrontation between another Stark and Umber where the Greatjon lost two fingers to Grey Wind.

 

“My brother is dead, as is my father. Perhaps I am not the Lord Stark you _want_ but I am the Lord Stark you _have_. You will either follow my rule or face the block,” Jon replied with ice in his voice. The room remained silent for a few minutes before Mors nodded to Jon, his mouth drawn tightly. Deirdre found herself taking a deep breath. “As to your reluctance about the Wildlings, I understand more than you realize. They attacked my little brother and I grew up seeing scores of people in the winter town, mostly women, lost over the years due to the raids. But like the people from the north are different from the people of the south and the Free Cities, different tribes of the Free People are more honorable than others. I will choose only those I know that I can trust. Despite your doubts in me, Crowfood, I know quite a bit about the Free People and the north. I was raised side-by-side with Robb Stark by _our_ father, Lord Eddard Stark who everyone in this room admires and trusted. He taught us well so I ask that you give me some credit for knowing what I’m doing.”

 

Most of the people in the room nodded silently. However, one man, who Deirdre had just met the day before, stood. “My lord, beggin’ your pardon and I mean no disrespect, but we don’t understand why you bent the knee to Stannis Baratheon at all,” Morgan Liddle, son of the Liddle, said. “Your brother was the King in the North, selected by the Northmen and making us a separate kingdom from those who follow that king on the Iron Throne, the one that killed the Ned. His Grace has two sons, his rightful heirs and your wife was his queen. Why would you give up a title that was not yours to surrender and bend the knee to another southern king?”

 

Jon sat down with a sigh and Deirdre truly felt bad for him. She knew how tough the Northmen were with Robb, who _was_ the rightful heir of Winterfell. Jon has been raised up out of necessity by a king that no one in this room had any faith in.

 

“Between all the Northmen Robb lost during the war and at the Red Wedding, we do not know how many loyal Northmen remain. The north is crawling with the Ironborn. The Karstarks and Boltons are no longer loyal to the Starks and surely the Boltons have other supporters. If I had refused Stannis’ offer, we would have made yet another enemy and we’re already surrounded. My father was loyal to Robert Baratheon and Stannis is his rightful heir. Robb made me Lord Regent to make these decisions because he knew I would know better than Deirdre what was best for the north,” Jon explained. “And I was _protecting_ his heirs. I do not want those boys hunted by Robb’s enemies.”

 

“Robb would have wanted his sons safe more than he wanted them to have the crown,” Deirdre added, hoping her agreement would settle some of the doubters down but like Robb before him and probably even Lord Eddard, Jon would have to prove himself to earn their trust.

 

“She’s right,” Ned assured the room. “I knew more about the will than anyone here as the king confided in me his reasons behind certain requests. Lord Stark made the best decision for the north and King Robb would have supported it.”

 

“What’s done is done,” Crowfood replied with a subtle nod to Jon. “Do you have plans for the return of the northern prisoners that are held by the Lannisters and the Freys?”

 

“Lord Umber remains at the Twins and I doubt there is much we can do about that until we defeat the ironborn and Lord Bolton. However, King Stannis has assured me that when the north is able, he will support an assault on the Twins. My brother, Lady Catelyn, and the Northmen will be avenged, you have my word.” Jon’s tone was full of anger and pain. Deirdre watched the Northmen share looks that promised the old saying _The North Remembers_ was true. “A raven arrived the other day from Seagard. Lord Mallister felt certain that the Freys would soon besiege him or he would offer his help. He has sent Lady Jeyne Umber, Smalljon’s widow, to Lord Howland Reed. She carries Smalljon’s child.”

 

Deirdre quickly offered, “Jeyne is welcome at Winterfell once we regain it…”

 

“No, my lady,” Crowfood said. “She is an Umber now and carries the heir to our house. Unless _she_ wishes to travel to Winterfell, she will come to Last Hearth and we will take care of her and the babe. The Greatjon’s wife and daughters would never forgive me if I didn’t insist that she remain with us. With the loss of Smalljon and her husband being a prisoner, Talla needs some hope to make it through this winter. She is from lands further south and can help Lady Jeyne adjust to living this far north. If it is agreeable to you, Lord Stark, I will make arrangements to send men for her in Greywater Watch before she is too heavy with child.”

 

Jon gave her a nod signaling his approval and Deirdre said, “I think Jeyne will learn to love Last Hearth and would want her child raised amongst Smalljon’s people. If she wishes to stay with us for awhile though, she is welcome. Perhaps you will want Daryn, Robert, or Adair to accompany your other men since Jeyne knows my guards and would feel more at ease with someone she knew with her.”

 

“You have my gratitude, Lady Stark,” Mors said. “We will send Robert with our other men, if you can truly spare him.”

 

“Yes, of course,” Deirdre said with a smile. Turning to Jon, she said, “Lord Tully remains at the Twins as well and Ser Wylis Manderly is at Harrenhal. Can we do nothing for them?”

 

“I can do nothing for Lord Tully as the Lannisters gave Riverrun to Emmon Frey who is married to Lord Tywin’s sister. Lord Manderly sent a raven that he is loyal to Lord Bolton and King Tommen,” Jon replied. “I know Lord Manderly and he would not betray my family so easily. The wording of his statement makes me wonder how quickly that loyalty will turn if he regains his son. His Grace sent his Hand of the King, Lord Seaworth, to meet with him in White Harbor. We need his loyalty.”

 

Her guard Balin rose from his seat in the back of the room and said, “I assure you, my lord, that Lord Manderly would not pledge his loyalty to the turncoat Bolton if Ser Wylis did not have a knife to his throat. His younger son died with the king at that accursed wedding.” The room exploded into curses and angry words. Deirdre thought of the men who died with Robb and had been by his side so much, she knew them well. Smalljon had been as dear to her as Dacey and Ned.  Ser Wendel had been brave and honorable, always ready with a smile for her.

 

“Men, as much as I would like to take the Twins apart stone by stone, we must focus on energies on the ironborn for now, “ Jon declared and gave everyone a few moments to settle down. “Ramsey Snow will likely attempt to take Moat Cailin and secure passage into the north for his father and his men so that must be our first target while the king marches on Deepwood Motte. As you know, we must reach Winterfell and begin the repairs there.”

 

Jon frowned and grew even more somber. “Lady Cerwyn sent men to Winterfell a fortnight ago and sent me a report. The ceiling of the Great Hall and one side of the First Keep have collapsed. The hot springs have formed into lakes at the bottom of the Library Tower. The Maester's Turret and the bridge between the Bell Tower and the rookery are destroyed. The King’s Gates and the East Gate were burned, but the others appear intact. The First Keep hasn’t been used since before my father was born so it matters little but we will need the Great Hall and the gates repaired right away. Perhaps the saving grace is that the Glass Gardens and Godswood had very little damage.” 

 

“According to Lady Cerwyn’s man Ser Kyle, some of the smallfolk have returned to the winter town and there were also some squatters within the castle that were granted leave to remain as long as they began the repairs. But we will need skilled builders and masons to help. Until we know if any of the people of Winterfell have survived, we must assume they are lost.” Jon ran a hand through his hair and he looked so weary, Deirdre reached out and took his hand, giving it a little squeeze. Eventually he continued. “We need servants, tanners, guards, a master of horse, blacksmiths, cooks, and men to work in the stables and the glass gardens. Some of the small-folk with skills will be assigned duties in exchange for food and shelter within Winterfell. Some of the Wildlings that are going to fight with Stannis will leave their eldest sons as our wards and they’ll be apprentices in different trades.”

 

“Most of the people who fled Mole’s Town came to Last Hearth and our winter town is overcrowded. We’ll send all that we can to Winterfell. Most likely, they’d be glad of a chance at a new future even if they are leery of the Wildlings,” Mors replied.

 

“Once Winterfell has been repaired, it is the most secure keep in the North and it’s surrounded by rich lands for crops, livestock, hunting, and lumber. Most folk would consider a position at Winterfell an honor,” Lady Mormont pointed out. “I will send word to Bear Island to send some woodcutters and a few guards to Winterfell. We don’t have many men to spare but if you don’t mind women…”

 

A chuckle went up from the men and Jon smiled. “No, Lady Mormont, anyone you send is welcome.” Standing he said, “I have to meet with the king now. We’ll speak more at Last Hearth. I hope to depart at midday tomorrow unless the king has any objections.”

 

x-x-x

 

“This way you’ll be able to carry one of the babes safely on the horse with you,” Jared Umber explained the strange contraption to Deirdre. “I made two of them but I did not know of the other babes traveling with us.” The twins were two of five infants traveling from the Wall to Last Hearth, counting Mance’s son with Val, Gilly’s son, and Aline’s daughter.

 

“Yes, there is an unexpected number of children,” Deirdre replied with a smile. “I do not think Gilly or Aline intend to ride, preferring the wagons instead. If Val rides, she can leave the baby in the wagon with Gilly.”

 

“Won’t you be riding in the wagon as well?” Dacey said in surprise. “I just assumed…”

 

Deirdre shook her head quickly. “No, after the journey here, I want no part of riding in the wagon again. Besides, now I can ride with one of the boys. I suppose since Robert is going with the Umber men to get Jeyne Westerling, I’ll ask Adair to take the other babe. He’s the most skilled rider and I’d rather have yours and Ned’s hands free to fight if there is an attack of some kind.” The thought made her frown. “Although I hope there won’t be much risk of that.”

 

“We still do not know the intentions of the Karstarks since the king executed their lord,” Dacey reminded her. “If they have aligned with the Boltons, we’re in danger due to their close proximity to the Wall. Not to mention, we have no guarantees about the Wildlings or the Bastard of Bolton.”

 

“Have they heard anything about Theon Greyjoy?” Deirdre asked quietly, attempting to get Brandon to fall asleep despite all of the visitors in her room. “Lord Bolton told Robb that he’d been captured at Winterfell but since he betrayed us about everything else, I don’t think we should trust that.”

 

“I’m certain Lord Stark is planning for all contingencies,” Ned spoke quickly. Dacey’s glance at him and his guilty look worried Deirdre but she waited until Jared had left to ask.

 

“You both are hiding something from me,” she accused sternly. “Last time you kept something from me, Dacey, I ended up drugged and Brandon lost his title.”

 

Dacey opened her mouth to retort then closed it just as quickly, glancing at Ned through narrowed eyes. Finally, he admitted, “It’s not Dacey that is keeping secrets. She wanted to tell you because she feels it unfair and risky.”

 

“What is it?” Both remained silent, Ned looking uncomfortably and Dacey continuing to stare at him. Deirdre hated making demands of them but at times she knew she must. “I demand you tell me.”

 

Dacey practically pounced on the opportunity to spill the beans. “Jon has _ordered_ us not to discuss the war with you. He will decide what he thinks is necessary for you to know. Otherwise, he doesn’t want you unnecessarily burdened with talk of war. There was more talk of wars and battles at this morning’s meeting than he wished so he pulled us aside afterwards. I suspect you won’t be involved in many in the near future.”

 

At first, Deirdre was angry but then she remembered previous conversations where Jon had already said that he wanted it this way. Part of her didn’t like _her_ guards becoming Jon’s men or her loss of power. Being queen had brought her so much heartache but at least she was able to command her own men, feeling like they were always on her side. Robb could always have overruled her and, perhaps he did and she wasn’t aware, but mostly he seemed to only give orders to Ned who was expected to relay them on to the others. This made her feel like a child but she knew Jon wished to spare her more suffering. His intentions were good at least.

 

Although she fully intended to talk to Jon about it later, she forced a smile and said, “I understand. It will take time for all of us to adjust to Jon’s handling of things, but I do not wish to do anything to undermine him. He has enough people questioning him.”

 

“As I said,” Ned retorted with a look to Dacey.

 

Dacey smirked at him. “Since it’s not war related, are you going to tell her about Adair or allow her to find out on her own?”

 

“No. Let him share it if he wants to.” Ned shook his head and left the room without another word.

 

As soon as the door shut, Deirdre demanded, “What about Adair?” She sensed it was something humorous rather than of real concern judging from Dacey’s mischievous expression.

 

Dacey sat on the bed beside her and started chuckling. “Have you heard how a Wildling doesn’t bother with ‘courting’ but simply _steals_ the partner they want? Apparently, after your wedding last night, Val stole Adair from his chambers at knife point. Ned did nothing to stop it when he found out as Adair was not on duty and honestly not in danger, but Ned and Patrek did have to track him down this morning. It took a little encouragement to get Val to release him. She only agreed when Ned promised Adair could return when he was off duty. Adair is now besotted by her, but Ned is less than amused by the whole incident.”

 

Deirdre almost wished she had been there to observe that confrontation. “I’m certain all of the other men teased Adair about it even if they wished to be in his place. Val is a beautiful woman.”

 

“I think that’s partially why Ned was so irritated: Adair found a lover and Ned has not. I suppose it’s not appropriate to speak to you about this.”

 

Deirdre slapped her arm. “One of the blessings of no longer being the queen is that people don’t need to be so formal with me, _especially_ when we’re in private. Besides I need humor as well. There has been far too much unhappiness and worrying. I desperately need to laugh more.”  Studying the other woman, Deirdre asked, “What of you and Ned? I thought for a time that perhaps you two might…”

 

Dacey glanced at her in surprise then looked away. “At a time, perhaps. However, Ned wants a wife and children.”

 

“And you never want to that?”

 

Dacey was quiet for a moment and Deirdre worried she had pried too much. Finally Dacey said, “Someday I suppose. I am the heir to Bear Island and that means whoever I marry would have to live there. It’s a hard place for any man to have his wife rule. Before the Battle at Oxcross, I started worrying that he was too serious and I did… something… to prevent that.”

 

“Something… with Ser Marc Piper?” Deirdre asked, already suspecting it.

 

Shame crossed Dacey’s face but contrary to her obvious regret, her voice was almost boastful. “We never promised one another anything so for Ned to be so jealous…”

 

“He _loved_ you. Even I could see that despite both of you trying to hide the whole affair from me,” Deirdre exclaimed in frustration. “I do not think he would care about you ruling or anything else. He loved you and you threw it away.” She knew she wasn’t being completely fair since she did not know the whole story but she knew Ned loved Dacey and it made her angry that Ned had been hurt. “You should attempt to mend fences with him. We both know that you will find no man more loyal and protective than him. He’s handsome, kind, and smart; not to mention, he would treat you better than any man.”

 

“You should know something. I don’t know how to tell you…” Dacey began glancing at her hands for a moment before rising to pace the room. “But I don’t want you to find out from Jon. It was before, long before you two were betrothed…”

 

When Dacey trailed off and looked awkwardly away, Deirdre blurted out, “You slept with Jon?” feeling hurt and angry despite knowing she had no right. She had no claim to Jon at that time.

 

Dacey quickly faced her, shaking her head. “No! I just… I attempted to comfort him. We were all such a mess when we arrived here and he had just learned about his brother. I tried to _comfort_ him but he rejected me because of his vows.”

 

Deirdre watched Dacey in silence, trying to quell the anger in her. Dacey hadn’t done anything wrong and neither had Jon. Even if they _had_ become lovers, she could say nothing.  She forced a smile and lied, “It’s fine, Dacey. As you said, it didn’t actually happen. Think nothing of it.” She quickly changed the subject and the two finished packing the remainder of Deirdre and the boys’ belongings.

 

Jon did not return by supper so she ate with Benjen, who wanted to spend time with the boys before they left. He mentioned that Jon and Stannis were butting heads about the Wildlings and Stannis had declared that Benjen had no real say in the matter, sending him away.

 

“You’re the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. I would think you had plenty of say. It sounds like the king didn’t want Jon to have someone there to support his arguments,” Deirdre replied.

 

“I think it was one too many Starks for him,” Benjen agreed with a smile. “Jon has Mors Umber and Lady Mormont in the meeting as well so Jon isn’t completely alone in fighting the good fight. But I fear Jon might lose the biggest battle.”

 

“What is that, if I might ask?”

 

Benjen sighed wearily, switching little Benjen to his other arm. “What the king wants the Wildlings to do is complicated and likely going to rile them even more. They’re proud people who do not give up their freedom easily. He wants them to promise too much. Jon is trying to make him understand what he thinks they are willing to do. But mostly Jon is arguing that they will never follow Stannis if he burns Mance Rayder alive in front of them.”

 

“What?” Deirdre gasped. “How could Stannis think that would gain him their loyalty? It’s brutal and horrific.”

 

Benjen shook his head and explained, “The brutality of it is not the main concern. If Mance were executed or killed in a battle, the Wildlings would understand that it was a result of war. But to burn him as a bound prisoner in sacrifice to a god they do not believe in, then ask them to bend the knee to a southern king is too much to ask for loyalty in response. They’ve been defeated by Stannis’ soldiers, but what the king is suggesting means to degrade them a step further.”

 

“If they are asked to bend too much, they will break,” she muttered, her dislike for Stannis growing. “Is his death a punishment for his crimes or merely a sacrifice?”

 

“A sacrifice,” Jon said from the doorway.

                                                                                                                                      

Deirdre glanced up in surprise; she hadn’t heard him open the door. He looked as exhausted as he’d ever looked during the Battle of the Wall. “Have you had supper?” she asked.

 

“No, but I’m not very hungry.”

 

“You need to eat something,” Deirdre replied, rising and handing Brandon to Jon. “He’s nearly asleep but I thought he might soothe you. I’ll send for a plate of food for you.”

 

The two men spoke softly for awhile before Benjen left, putting little Benjen snug in his basket. Jon allowed her to take Brandon to lie beside his brother.  Suddenly Deirdre felt awkward and hesitated by the boys’ basket. They were married now but hadn’t grown comfortable enough with each other that it seemed natural to do what married couples did.  Jon clearly felt the same as he kept studying his hands or glancing around the room.

 

“Perhaps we should sleep,” she suggested. “We have a long journey tomorrow.”

 

Jon merely nodded before leaning down to unlace and remove his boots. Deirdre walked to the trunk she had left open for things they would need tonight and in the morning and began undressing. When she removed the pins that held her hair, she felt Jon’s fingers work through her hair, pulling it all loose, then draping it over one shoulder. She untied the bodice of her gown as his lips trailed along her neck. Her breath caught when he bit down gently.

 

“Are you tired?” he whispered, his hands wrapping around her waist and pulling her back to his naked body.

 

“Yes,” she murmured, relaxing against him. “But I am not _too_ tired.”

 

“I want you desperately,” he replied, urgently pulling her gown off the remainder of the way. “You wear far too much clothing now.”

 

Deirdre couldn’t help but laugh. “You’ve had me twice today already. And I wear the proper amount of clothing, unlike I did when I snuck to your chambers at Winterfell.”

 

Jon groaned in annoyance as he started tugging at the laces of her corset. Finally frustrated, he moved on to her smallclothes as she quickly unlaced the corset, dropping it to the floor with her clothes. Turning her around, Jon grasped her neck to draw her to him, kissing her deeply until she felt dizzy and a rush of heat flooded through her body. She gasped when Jon suddenly released her only to pick her up around her waist.

 

“Wrap your arms around my neck,” he commanded, pulling her legs around him and stepping forward to press her back against the wall. Deirdre clung to him tightly. He thrust into her, causing a moan from both of them, as his mouth covered hers.

 

It was raw and desperate desire as they moved together aggressively. Jon nipped at her lips and she dug her nails into his back, eliciting a hiss of breath from him. Her back would likely be bruised tomorrow but she couldn’t bring herself to care much.

 

“You set me on fire,” he said, his mouth lowering to her neck. His thrusts were shallow but hard and they were pressed so closely together, she could do nothing but brace herself and kiss every inch of his heated skin that she could reach. She felt Jon’s legs begin to tremble slightly so he began backing away towards the bed. Unexpectedly, he stumbled over something and almost dropped her, causing her to burst out in giggles.

 

“The bed,” she said, biting his ear lobe. “Take me to bed.”

 

He sat down and they tumbled back ungracefully onto the bed with her on top, but Jon quickly rolled her beneath him and entered her again in a swift motion.  Deirdre wrapped her legs around his hips and her arms around his neck. Eventually his thrusts grew more urgent and he lowered his hand between them, to stroke her to completion. Soon she cried out, bucking up to him and Jon groaned, burying himself deep within her.

 

As he caught his breath and lay beside her, she frowned and sat up, saying, “I thought we agreed to wait on a child.”

 

He was quiet for a moment before rubbing his face and replying. “It’s hard to remember, at _that_ particular moment. Forgive me.”

 

“Jon, I just don’t think it’s wise now until we have Winterfell back. But if you don’t want to wait, tell me. Don’t attempt to…”

 

“I _forgot_ ,” he said in an annoyed voice. “It’s not like we took special care ever before nor did I with Ygritte. I…”

 

“Please, don’t talk about her after we just made love.” Deirdre answered sharply.

 

She could feel his anger in the air when he shot back, “Would you prefer to talk about Robb like last night?”

 

Tears burned her eyes as she shook her head. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair. I just…I never thought I would be but it makes me a bit jealous, especially when I think that perhaps she could have had a child, _your_ child, if she had lived. But that’s not fair either because I have two children.”

 

“And you don’t want a child of mine anyway,” he replied, his voice tight with anger.

 

She turned and studied him before shaking her head. “I want to have your child Jon, when we have a home, a permanent home, to keep them safe. Once we have a home, we can have a dozen if you wish. That is why I wonder if we shouldn’t go straight to Ramsgate rather than Winterfell. It’s undamaged and, although it’s not a great castle like Winterfell, it is safe.”

 

“The Starks rule from Winterfell. It has always been that way,” he replied, reaching out to stroke her back. He sighed deeply and leaned over to kiss her side. “I am sorry I was cross with you. I try to be understanding and I know it’s wise to wait for children but you’re my wife now. It seems wrong to attempt to prevent something that is so natural for husband and wife.”

 

Deirdre nodded and replied, “I don’t know. Perhaps we shouldn’t attempt to prevent it and allow the gods to decide. Unfortunately, the gods have never had very convenient timing for me.”

 

“I’ll be more careful. I promise,” he said, pulling her back to lie beside him. “I cannot believe we are finally leaving this place. I will miss my friends. Sam intends to travel with Maester Aemon to Old Town then study to become a maester. Uncle Benjen doesn’t feel it’s safe here for the maester since Melisandre wants king’s blood.”

 

“Is that why she insists on sacrificing Mance?”

 

“I suppose. But I think I have convinced the king to postpone that. I have sent Val to make peace with Tormund on my behalf. He is one that I would truly trust, even though I betrayed the Wildlings. I know if he gave me his word, I could trust it. He would not make vows if he did not intend to keep them.”

 

Deirdre glanced over at him in surprise. “I’m surprised the king allowed you to send the ‘Wildling princess’ back beyond the Wall. You sent her alone? Is it safe for her?”

 

“I sent her with Ghost. He’ll keep her safe from the living _and_ the dead,” he answered. “We will remain in Last Hearth until I hear word from her on her success so don’t worry.”

 

Draping her leg over his, she stroked his chest and said, “Jon, I know you think it’s wise to protect me but keeping things from me and telling others to do the same could put me in danger. Ignorance is _not_ an option, I fear. I understand not talking to me of the details of battles or even not involving me in any decisions but I need to know what is happening _before_ it affects me, not after.”

 

Jon was so quiet she thought he slept so she raised her head to look at him. He was awake but his mind appeared to be elsewhere, she lay her head back down and closed her eyes. After a few minutes, he stroked her hair and said, “I feel I need to protect you but I will think about your words.”

 

Deirdre simply nodded. Things would be easier once they left the Wall and she’d try to talk to him more about it.  Until then, she’d encourage Dacey to keep her informed.

 


End file.
